


Dark Side of the Moon

by Lady_Bluebird



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alive Kuchel Ackerman, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Blood and Gore, Doctor Hange Zoë, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, French Mafia, French-Speaking Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Furlan Church and Levi and Isabel Magnolia are Siblings, German Eren Yeager, German mafia, Gun Violence, Implied/Ambiguous Relationships, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mafia Boss Levi, POV switch, Police Officer Erwin Smith, Shower Sex, Switching, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pov swap, power struggles, very slow build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 70,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Bluebird/pseuds/Lady_Bluebird
Summary: Eren's life wasn't exactly normal before the French mafia decided to kidnap him, but that definitely isn't helping anything.





	1. Predation

**Author's Note:**

> Mafia AU! Yay! I have a few reasons for throwing this at you instead of updating TTC. First, as much as I love my lil' dream project, it's exhausting and intensive. I also want some time to stop, look where I'm at, and figure out where to go from there. In the meantime, I want to post something to make sure nobody thinks I've gone MIA. I'm not going to stop TTC, I promise. I'm just integrating this new fic into my schedule to give me some more freedom and to have some fun. Second, chapter 90 is out. I'm not okay. Less okay than I usually am when the new spoilers come rolling in. This AU is the ice cream for my tortured soul. Third, this idea has been bugging me for a while now, and I'm itching to write it down.
> 
> Anyways, glad to see that you're along for the ride! 
> 
> *This fic contains a lot of violence and some heavy subjects, so make sure you're aware of all the tags  
> **I want to make this very clear: This fic takes place over a long time frame, and all romantic and sexual attraction begins after Eren becomes an adult.

When I walk through the front door, the first thing I hear is Mom’s anxious, “Did anyone follow you?” 

I shake my head and throw my backpack down into one of the kitchen chairs. “You’ve asked me that every day since the day I was born, and I always say no.” 

Mom frowns and takes her eyes off the pan to answer me. “That’s an exaggeration, Eren.” 

“Okay, since the day I could talk.” 

Mom isn’t amused. “You know full well why I ask you every day. These are dangerous people -,” 

“And we can’t predict them,” I finish. “I know.” I hover over the sizzling pan. “What are you making? It smells really good.” 

“We’re having bacon and eggs for dinner. I have to go to the store tomorrow and then we’ll have a proper dinner, okay? Maybe chicken or a stir-fry,” She says. 

“There’s nothing wrong with breakfast for dinner,” I pick up my backpack. “I’m going to do some homework before we eat, okay?” 

“I’ll call you when the food is ready,” Mom promises. 

Our house is small, but it’s perfect for the two of us. We have two bedrooms, a kitchen, one bathroom, a basement where we keep stuff for the laundry and garden – it’s a normal setup. Mom and I don’t have anything physical that would put up a red flag for someone snooping around in the house. All of the skeletons we have in our closets are metaphorical. The parts of our lives that would raise some eyebrows aren’t evident in our possessions so much as they are in the reasoning behind why we own said possessions. 

Our house is in the middle of town because Mom thinks having people outside, constantly, makes it harder to break into the house and for someone to hurt us. It’s impossible to cause trouble without someone noticing. It’s also small, which apparently makes it more difficult for anyone malicious to hide here. I think it’s a bit extreme that Mom put a padlock on the knife drawer, but she wants the two of us to be the only people who can get in it. She keeps her key on her at all times, and I wear mine on a string around my neck. My friends just think Mom is paranoid. It kills me that they think she’s crazy and I can’t say anything against it, but I can’t tell them the truth. Turns out old Dad had a lot of secrets, and he was good at hiding them. So good that Mom didn’t realize she had married the head of the German mafia until after I was born. I can’t explain how Mom didn’t want me to be born into a violent criminal organization and decided to flee across the Atlantic when I was a few months old. Sharing how she lives in fear that someone from the Jäger family is going to hunt us down and take me away to work for them? That doesn’t come up in everyday conversation, especially not with friends. 

I collapse spread-eagle onto my bed and stare at the ceiling. I know Mom means well. She wanted to make sure I was a good kid, and I’ve turned out alright. I’m not doing drugs in the school bathroom. I just wish that she was a bit less protective. At least she told me about my dad in the first place. I think she knows that hiding it from me would just piss me off, and I’m glad she gave me an explanation for her behavior. 

We haven’t been running from state to state to avoid the mafia or anything like that. We just make sure we’re never alone and we watch our backs. I hate having to look over my shoulder all the time, and even though Mom is much more worried about the Jägers than I am, her paranoia rubs off on me sometimes. Honestly, if anyone was going to take me away, I think they would have by now. 

I roll over and eye my backpack on the floor. I know I said I’d do some homework before dinner, but the only thing I have is a paper, and it’s due next week. Plus, I got five hours of sleep last night and I didn’t account for how soft my bed is. I think I’ll do some work later. 

I check my phone, in case Thomas or Franz sent me anything. I send them an update and like their most recent posts, just so that they hear from me. I don’t know what to say to them right now. They’re probably doing homework or playing video games. 

Franz just started dating Hannah Diamant, so she’s going to be spending more time with us, and we have nothing in common. Besides, Hannah keeps trying to match me up with her friend Anka, and she doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not going to happen. Jeez, she’s going to start bringing Anka along to everything, isn’t she? I don’t think Anka is too keen on the idea of us being a couple, either. 

I jump as a wet nose presses into my palm. Claws scrabble on the wood floor, and then the mattress sinks as a large bundle of fur hauls himself up onto it. “Hey, Trost.” I scratch behind the rottweiler’s ears. “You know you shouldn’t be up here. Mom doesn’t like it when you shed on the sheets.” 

Trost doesn’t care. The doofus is still grinning me with that big, lolling grin that dogs have while his tail thumps against the mattress. He noses my hand again, ordering me to keep petting him. I’m happy to oblige. Trost is the one good outcome of Mom’s paranoia. She thought that getting a dog was a good idea and that we would have someone to watch the house and stay with me. She wanted a tougher breed, maybe even a nasty one, to take care of me, but we realized pretty quickly that Trost would rather kiss a stranger than bite them. People assume that since he’s a rottweiler, he’s nasty, but Trost is only scary on paper. 

My stomach rumbles in the silence. I’m starving. Is there any chance that dinner is ready yet? I’ve been here for a while. I glance at my alarm clock. Oh, no, it’s been about ten minutes since I got home. 

“What do you do with your day?” I ask Trost. He answers with a sloppy kiss. I laugh and try to wipe my face dry. “It must be nice to be lazy all day. You don’t have to worry about school, do you, boy?” I twist my hands in his scruff’s thick fur. “You’re even lazier than me, lying around in the house all the time.” I plant a kiss on his head. “I hope you don’t get too lonely. I’ll take you for a walk later, okay?” When I mention a walk, Trost begins to wag his tail so rapidly I’m scared it’s going to fall off. “Sorry, boy, I don’t mean now. We have to wait until after dinner. Don’t you want food first?” 

At the mention of food, Trost hops off my bed and waits expectantly at the door to my room. I groan. A walk and food, he probably thinks this is the best moment of his day so far. I let him out when he starts whining and scratching at the door, and Trost immediately heads into the kitchen. Trost and I are pretty similar in that we don’t have any patience whatsoever. Sometimes, it’s exhausting. 

When I walk out into the kitchen, Trost is sitting expectantly by his bowl. Mom sighs when she sees him. “I swear, Eren, that dog of yours better behave himself. I don’t want him to go crazy out when he doesn’t get a meal right away.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” I walk over to Trost and rub behind his ears. “He can’t help it.” 

“You have to wash your hands. I don’t want you to have dog on your hands when you eat.” 

“Ja, ich weiß schon.” _(Yes, I know already)_ Mom made sure I grew up with English as a first language, but we still speak a little German around the house. 

Trost is starting to whine. His normal grin has vanished, and his ears drop. “Come on boy, you’ll eat in a second,” I reason. I try to soothe him with more petting. “There’s no reason to cry.” 

“Eren,” Mom warns, “You have to take the dog out of the room if he doesn’t stop.” 

“He’s only hungry,” I assure her. “Trost, really – oh jeez boy, don’t start!” 

Trost full on wails, pacing the kitchen. He watches me for a moment with baleful eyes, and then turns to head towards the door. I sigh and follow him. “I can’t take you out right now, I said that. Can you stop, please? I squat down and try to cuddle him into submission, but he remains rigid. Suddenly, he begins to bark. 

“What’s wrong?” Mom calls anxiously from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know! What’s the matter, Trost?” 

“Is there someone at the door?” Mom appears from the kitchen, still in her apron with a spatula clutched in her hand. 

I frown. “I don’t know who would be, but he never barks at people.” 

The polite ding-dong of the doorbell fills the hall and silences us, Trost included. The dog is tense, watching the door warily. 

I reach for the doorknob, but Mom stops me with a quick, “Eren! What have I said about answering the door when you aren’t expecting anyone?” I step aside and she peers through the peephole. Whatever she sees on the other side makes her suck in a breath. 

“What is it?” I ask, taking a step forwards. “Is there something wrong?” 

The doorbell rings again. Whoever is on the other side is getting impatient. “Can I see who it is?” I ask. My thoughts immediately jump to the worse possible scenario. “Is it… is it them? The Jägers?” 

“It might be,” Mom’s voice is barely a whisper. “Eren, geh zu dein Zimmer und sperr die Tür. Ich weiß nicht, wer draußen ist. Ich will nicht, dass sie wissen, wo du bist.” _(Eren, go to your room and lock the door. I don’t want them to know where you are.)_

I grab Trost and head to my room like she says. I don’t think this is just Mom being paranoid. She looks terrified. I quickly lock the door behind me, and for the first time, I’m glad that I don’t have a window. That requires extra precautions, and I don’t want to pull the curtains, turn the lights off, and sit here in the dark while Mom talks to a potential gangster alone. 

I retreat back to my bed and pull Trost up after me. I bury my nose in his fur. What the heck is going on? We were just having a normal day, and now we might be in trouble. I know I hate how worried Mom is about being found, but tonight we could be in real danger. 

I can hear voices talking outside, but I can’t make out the words. I instantly recognize mom speaking quickly, urgently, and a man’s lower voice calmly replying. They go on for a few minutes until the man says something that makes them both pause. 

“No!” Mom’s horrified cry cuts through me like a knife. “I will not allow you to do that!” 

I bury my face in Trost’s fur, and he licks my face in reassurance. The man doesn’t raise his voice, but it becomes sharper and colder when he speaks. 

What are they talking about? I shiver. The man says something again, and there’s a moment of tense silence. “What do you mean, where is he?” Mom asks, confused. “He’s with friends. He’s not home.” 

My blood turns into ice. He’s looking for me. Mom speaking so loudly, making sure I can hear, is her warning. It’s her way of letting me know that I need to hide. I look around my room frantically. Where? I can’t fit under the bed. The closet, maybe? 

Even footsteps click down the hall. Before I can do anything, there’s a hard knock on the door. “He’s not in there,” Mom pleads outside. “I told you, he’s not in the house.” 

The man on the other side snorts. “I’m not deaf, Mrs. Jäger. I heard your son with your dog when I rang the doorbell. At the moment, both of them are conspicuously absent. Where did they disappear to?” The doorknob jiggles. “Mrs. Jäger, I don’t think this door would be locked if the room was empty. Will you open it?” 

Mom doesn’t answer. 

“Will whoever’s in there open up? I’m not here to cause damage.” 

Like hell I will. 

Like hell you aren’t, you mafia goon. 

A sharp bang rattles the door. Before I can react, it swings open, the doorknob now mangled. A gun is stowed away. 

The man standing in the doorway is a lot shorter than what I expected from someone who was so scary, but there’s no mistaking the hardness in his pale grey eyes. The steely orbs land on me. “Just as I expected,” He says coolly. Nothing in his voice screams “evil”, but it’s completely devoid of emotion, which is only a little better. “The brat ran to his room.” His eyes fall to Trost. “And I see he brought the mutt with him.” Trost whimpers. 

I tighten my grip on Trost. “What do you want?” I demand. I curse inwardly when I hear my voice shake. “Are you here to take me to my father?” 

“Me? Absolutely not,” He steps out of the doorway, revealing Mom standing in the hallway. All the color has drained out of her face. “I need to talk with you, Eren Jäger.” 

I narrow my eyes. “What if I don’t want to talk with you?” I challenge. 

He shrugs. “Then we’ll do this the hard way and someone will get hurt.” His gaze falls to Mom. 

I grit my teeth. Who does this asshole think he is? “You can’t threaten us,” I snarl. 

He raises one eyebrow. “I’m doing it right now. Come on Brat, trust me when I say that nothing you start here will end well for you.” He glances at Trost. “And lock the dog in, too. Nobody here gets to cause trouble.” 

“Trust you? That’s rich,” Reluctantly, I peel myself off of the bed, leaving Trost behind, and follow the man into the kitchen. He settles into the seat closest by the door. I pull up the chair across from him, and Mom hovers behind me. 

“My name is Levi Ackerman,” the man starts. He folds his arms over his chest. “And I do not work for your father.” 

“But you know who he is, don’t you?” I ask warily. 

“I don’t think there’s a person in my business who doesn’t know who Grisha Jäger is,” Levi the says. “Do you know what your father does?” 

“He’s a mafia boss,” I answer immediately. This was drilled into my head before I understood what it meant. “He’s the head of the German mafia, and he’s involved with almost all the crime in the country.” Eren never learned that there are other families involved. 

“Close enough,” Levi allows. “There are more Families than the Jägers, but it’s true that your father is a big name. He’s a very important person.” Mom is clutching the back of my chair with white knuckles. 

“I’m also in a crime family, Eren, and the Jägers are causing us quite a bit of trouble. We need you to come work with us so that you can help us with the problems we’ve been having. 

“No,” Mom speaks up immediately. “No, Eren will not come with you. He will not become involved with you sick people, I won’t allow it.” 

“I’m asking your son, Mrs. Jäger, not you.” 

“No, Mom’s right,” I say. “I don’t care who you are and where you come from. I’m not getting involved with the mafia.” 

Levi’s expression remains unreadable. “I see. Oluo? Gunther? Eld?” 

Three men melt out of the shadows. Their expressions are as grim as Levi’s, and each of them carries a glossy steel handgun. “Nobody has to get hurt,” Levi continues. “But I have my orders. My boss –“A bit of cyanide taints his voice when he says the name – “wants me to bring you to him, Eren. Your mother doesn’t have to come with us, and she doesn’t have to get hurt, but she will if necessary.” He indicates the men behind him. One of them, a scowling, curly-haired brunet, cocks his gun so the kitchen lights make it gleam. 

My hands curl into fists. “How do I know you’re not lying?” 

“You don’t,” He says easily. “You also don’t have a choice about coming with me. However, you do have a choice about whether or not anyone gets hurt. Choose wisely.” 

I’m trembling with rage, but I know what I have to do. “Where are you taking me?” 

“Eren, no!” Mom gasps behind me. 

“To the family head,” Levi replies. 

My heart is in my throat. I don’t want to have anything to do with these monsters, and I hope they understand that I’m going to hate them for it, but I can’t let them hurt Mom. “What kind of problems are you having with my dad’s family?” I ask quietly. 

Levi looks mildly amused. “Do you have any idea what kinds of things your father does?” 

“Of course!” I scowl at him. “I’m not stupid. I know they’re disgusting and illegal. I’m asking, what sort of problems would make you want my help?” 

“There are two reasons why I’m here.” Levi says. “First, we’ve been trying to work with the Jäger family, and they’re being difficult. Mr. Ackerman believes that having you with us would make negotiations much easier.” He taps the table. “Second, we actually meant to find you sooner. The only reason I’m here now is because your mother was very good at hiding you.” Levi’s gaze slides up to Mom. “You did an excellent job, Mrs. Jäger. The only reason we caught you is because our top intelligence associate found your son in some school records.” 

“Eren,” Mom says. Her voice trembles. “When he says that he needs your help, he means that he wants you as a hostage.” 

My blood chills. “You want to use me as a bargaining chip, don’t you?” 

“Yes. We need you as a tool. All of the German Families consider disloyalty to blood relations the greatest crime a man can commit. Your father wouldn’t dare let anyone hurt you.” Levi studies my face intently. “If you come with us, nobody is going to be hurt. Not your mother, not your father, not even that dirty mutt of yours. The only catch is that it might be a long time before you come back.” 

“How long?” I ask with a chill. “A few months?” 

Levi shrugs. “I can’t say. These types of business deals can be unpredictable.” 

I only hesitate for a split second. “I’m guessing that I won’t have any contact with my friends.” 

“That’s correct.” 

I frown. “I don’t want them to worry about me.” 

“I’m sure your mother can come up with a story to explain your absence.” Levi says dryly. 

“If you stay, nobody has to worry,” Mom pleads. 

Mom lets out a shuddering breath. “Eren, can I speak with you for a minute?” She fixes Levi with a glare of absolute hatred. “In private?” 

Levi just grunts. Mom takes it as confirmation, and she leads me into the hall. Mom shuts the kitchen door behind us, blocking the cold steel in the other room. “Eren,” She starts in a low whisper. 

“I don’t have a choice,” I insist. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Mom sighs and bundles me up in a tight hug. “I know, sweetie. It’s very noble of you. It’s just that we’ve spent too much time running from these people to let them catch up to us now. And they want you as a hostage, of all things…” Mom starts to pet my hair fretfully. “It’s abominable, Eren. You might not come back from this. It doesn’t matter how you become involved with these people, because they’ll always suck you into their world.” 

I frown and pull away slightly. “Mom! I don’t want any part of them. Levi Ackerman can go rot in hell with the rest of his family.” 

Mom smiles faintly. “I know, sweetheart. You’re not a bad person. Just promise me that whatever happens, you’ll remember that there’s a reason we’ve been running from these people.” 

“I promise,” I hug her tightly. “I promise that I’ll come back, too. Everything’s going to be okay.” 

Mom smiles ruefully and tugs on my earlobe. “Your ears are turning red, sweetie.” 

I squirmed. “I’m not lying.” I can’t be lying – if I let myself think about how dangerous this situation is, I’ll start thinking about all the what-ifs. 

“No, just trying to be brave.” Mom agrees. 

A hand raps on the door. “Jäger boy,” A gruff voice calls. “We gotta go.” 

Mom gives me one last hug. “I’ll see you off. Stay strong out there. You’re a Jäger. That means you’re a hunter. A brave young man. Don’t let your father and his colleagues tarnish that name. Ich liebe dich.” _(I love you)_

“Ich liebe dich auch.” _(I love you too)._

We step out into the kitchen. Levi stands by the front door with his hands in his pockets while his men loiter around the room. He seems to be deep in thought, frowning at the doorknob, but our entrance pulls him out of his thoughts. “Are you ready to go?” He asks me. I nod. 

The cars waiting outside really do look like something straight out of a gangster movie. The black finishes gleam, even in the twilight, and when we get closer I can see our house reflected in the metal. Men stand poised around the house and the vehicles, scanning the area watchfully. 

The hulking cars definitely aren’t out of place. Neither are the men walking around in matching suits. Nobody driving by could possibly think that anything even remotely illegal was happening at the Jäger household. Nope, these are definitely the subtlest cars in the world. 

If somebody came by now, would they stop to see what’s going on? 

Levi steps around me and raps twice on the window. A moment later, the door unlocks with a clunk. 

“Eren,” I turn around to hug Mom one last time. 

“You’ve told me everything already,” I try to soothe her. “I’ll be fine.” 

She frowns into my hair. “I know but I worry about you. It’s my job.” 

I laugh a little and break away. “Don’t work too hard.” 

Levi waits by the door. Around us, the other Ackerman soldiers are climbing into their vehicle. One soldier, a man with sandy blond hair, jogs over to our car and begins to talk with Levi in a low murmur. 

“Take care of yourself,” Mom instructs me. “Brush your teeth, comb your hair, make sure you eat balanced meals -,” 

“Mom!” I protest. “What am I, five?” 

Mom laughs. “Eren, you’re always going to be my baby.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

It’s almost unbearable to tear away from Mom, but we should probably go. I squeeze her hand once and climb up into the armored truck. The interior, soft with tan leather, smells new and crisp. Levi takes the seat across from me, but even though another three or four people could easily fit, nobody makes a move to join us. He pulls a handgun out of his waistband and begins inspecting the weapon. 

“What?” I challenge. “Aren’t you going to tie me up or something? Handcuff me to the chair?” 

Levi snorts. “Why? Are you going to attack me? Try to escape? There’s nowhere you can run to, kid. And even if you managed to hurt me, it wouldn’t matter. There’s still no way you could escape.” 

A man moves to slide the car door closed, and Mom raises a hand in farewell. At the same time, one of the men raises his gun. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot thunders down the street. 

Mom’s expression freezes in shock. For a moment, my world stops. The men around leap into action, and Levi has his own weapon up in a heartbeat, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. 

Red blossoms across the front of her dress, and she begins to tumble to the Earth. 

“No!” I burst out of the truck and scramble over to her. She’s still breathing, but faintly, and the red sea on her chest continues to spread. I cradle her head in my lap. “Mom, mom, Mama, stay here. Stay with me. I’m not going to let you leave!” 

Levi is shouting in the background. “Qu'est-ce que vous avez fait? Ça n'aurait pas du arriver! _(What do you think you were doing? That wasn’t supposed to happen!)_ A second gunshot cracks through the air. 

Mom’s breathing is ragged and choked, but she grasps one of my hands. I squeeze it, my vision turning blurry. “You’re going to be okay. You’re not going anywhere.” 

She smiles faintly. “Eren,” she rasps out. “Eren, I wish that was true.” I can’t tell if the tears on her cheeks are from me or her. Probably both. “Listen to me, sweetheart. Don’t trust them. Don’t trust any of them, and get away the first chance you get. Even if that means you have to escape to your father. Remember that, okay? Tell me!” 

I nod. “Don’t trust the Ackermans,” I reassure her. I have to force the words out through the lump in my throat. “I’ll get away from them as soon as I can, even if that means going to Dad for help.” 

She smiles, satisfied. “That’s my boy. Don’t forget. Sei stark _(be strong)_ , Eren, and come back home in one piece.” She closes her eyes. “If these men change you, make sure they change you for the better.” 

“Mom?” The rise and fall of her chest is barely perceivable. “Mom! Please, you can’t go!” 

“I’m very tired, sweetheart. I think I need to rest.” 

“Don’t do this to me,” I plead with her. “We need to stay together, remember? What am I supposed to do without you?” 

“Eren,” Her nails dig into my hand. “What did I tell you? Be strong.” 

Her grip on my hand slackens, and her breath comes in diminishing puffs, and then stops completely. A sob bursts out of my throat. Once the first cry is out, the others follow, and I can’t stop the rattling cries that force their way out of my mouth. My throat burns and my shoulders shake as grief consumes me. 

Gravel crunches behind me. “Eren,” Levi says. “We have to go.” 

I turn on him in an instant. “I’m not leaving her here!” I glare up at him through my tears. “I’m not leaving her in the road!” 

“We can arrange something. She’ll be taken care of.” 

“By you?” I clutch Mom’s hand to my chest. “What are you going to do? Dump her in a ditch?” 

“Of course not. She’ll have a proper funeral.” He still has that carefully blank expression. He’s had it the whole time. 

“This doesn’t matter to you, does it?” I challenge him. “I bet you planned this. You knew that I would go if she was safe, so you lied to us. You were going to murder her all along!” 

“I’m not the one you should be mad at, kid. That guy over there?” He gestures to a crumpled body spread across the pavement behind him. “That’s the guy who shot your mom, and he didn’t do it on my orders. The boss gave him some special directions.” His eyes flash. “Trust me, Eren. If I had known ahead of time that prick never would have a chance to pull the trigger in the first place.” 

“I don’t care,” I repeat. “He – he came here with you. If you hadn’t come, neither would he. Everything would still be okay if you weren’t here!” I should have fought them when they came. Maybe mom might still be alive if I fought. 

“That’s true,” Just like that. Blunt agreement. “But you know what? There’s nothing we can change about the past. We have to get out of here before the cops show up. Between the shooting and the screaming, someone probably called the police.” 

“I. Don’t. Care.” I snarl at him. “Let them come. You’ll all get arrested and thrown in prison for the rest of your lives. Maybe you’ll even get the death penalty. I hope you do, all of you! You’re monsters. You don’t deserve to live!” The circle of men stare down at me without reacting. 

None of this matters to them. It’s just another job, wrecking people’s lives. Stealing things from them. Hurting and killing and burning and never trying to do anything good. 

Levi sighs. “Alright. Gunther, Eld, give me a hand here. This isn’t working.” Two of the men from the kitchen step forwards and haul me to my feet. I thrash and kick, but their grips are made of iron. Levi steps forwards and raises his gun. “Be careful who you call a monster, Eren.” I brace myself for the bullet. “Call the wrong person ‘monster’, and they just might think a demonstration is in order.” The butt of the pistol comes down. A bolt of pain arcs through my head, and then everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ My Tumblr ](http://ashestoconstellations.tumblr.com/)


	2. Pack Hierarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren gets to meet the boss. It goes pretty well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! On time! Seriously though, this fic is incredibly self-indulgent, and it means so much to see all the early support I've received. Thank you! I've been slow responding to comments, but I'll get on it. Two things I want to address: First, someone was upset that I didn't tag major character death for Carla. I'm sorry. I don't want to offend or trigger anyone. I don't want to add the warning because of plot purposes, but I did alter the tags so that you can see her death coming. 2) EREN'S NOT DEAD. He didn't die at the end of the last chapter, I promise. I wouldn't be that cruel... yet. ;)

I come too slowly. My head pounds, and when I reach up to touch my forehead, I can definitely feel a small mountain forming. A soft seat cocoons my body. A background hum reaches my ears. A car? A van? I notice a second sound, and this one isn’t mechanical. It’s the very human sound of even breathing. 

“Eren,” 

When I hear that voice, the events of the evening smash into me like a freight train. That’s right - Mom and I got a visit from a family, and it wasn’t Dad's. It was the Ackermans. They wanted to use me as a hostage, and they didn’t let me say no. The criminal underworld Mom and I tried to avoid caught up to us, and Mom - 

Mom got murdered for her trouble. 

My eyes fly open. There he is, sitting across from me. Levi Ackerman. He looks so fucking polished with his pressed suit and slicked-back hair. A handgun gleams in his lap, right out in the open. I guess now that he got what he wants, there’s no point trying to be subtle. 

“Eren,” Levi says softly, “I’m sorry about your mother.” 

I launch myself forwards. Levi flicks the safety off of his weapon, but he’s not my target. Instead, I grab the door handle and try to fling it open. 

“Unbelievable. You fucking _idiot_.” Levi slams me back into my seat. “What the hell are you trying to do? We’re going at least a hundred kilometers an hour.” 

I glower at him. “What, do you really think I’m going to stay here with you?” I demand. “You’re a demon!” 

“Being here is better than being dead. Do you think your mother would want you to get yourself killed?” 

He’s hit me again, figuratively. This time, it’s a sucker-punch to the stomach. All the air leaves my lungs. I gasp, “Don’t you dare - you have no right to use her name.” What really hurts is that he’s right, and we both know it. If I tried something that stupid again, Mom would bust out of her coffin and come slap some sense into me herself. 

At the thought of Mom, another sob rises in my chest. I beat it down. Levi saw me cry once. I won’t give him that satisfaction ever again. 

I rub the bump on my head and wince. “Did you pistol-whip me?” 

“Were you going to cooperate otherwise?” Levi asks. “You choose to make things difficult for yourself.” 

“I made things difficult?” I laugh humorlessly. “Says the monster who got my mom killed.” 

Levi’s expression hardens. “Eren, I completely understand why you’re upset with me. I ruined your life. That being said, I never killed your mother. I didn’t even give the order.” 

“Then who did?” I demand. “The boogeyman?” 

“The Boss,” Levi says grimly. “Mr. Ackerman. I already told you this. He knew that I didn’t want Carla Jäger to get hurt. Hell, he knew I wouldn’t follow an order to kill her. That’s why he took one of my men aside and gave him the order confidentially.” Levi runs a hand down his face. 

“Whatever,” My hands aren’t tied, and a bolt of dark satisfaction shoots through me. Not restraining me will be their fatal mistake. “You still follow his orders, don’t you? You’re all monsters anyways, and I’m not going to help you,” I say savagely. “You wanted me to be your bargaining chip, so you used Mom to get some leverage. You knew that I would do anything to keep her safe.” I laugh bitterly. “News flash, asshole. Mom’s gone, and any power you had over me died with her. I have no reason to help you.” 

Levi nods. “I thought you might say something like that. I’m sorry, Eren, but you’re wrong. You’re assuming that we would only hurt your mother. Or that there’s no one out in the world we could hurt. But that isn’t true. We do have some people we can use against you. You have friends, Eren.” 

When I realize what he’s saying, my blood runs cold. “Don’t you dare touch them!” 

Levi ignores me. “Thomas Wagner. Franz Kafka and Hannah Diamant. Anka Rheinberger. He ticks them off on his fingers. “We know who they are and where they live.” 

“It would be easy to find them. From there, we could do anything necessary to ensure your cooperation. We could torture them, Eren. I know some men who would cut up anyone we put in front of them.” 

“Stop it!” My stomach rolls. 

“We could tell your friends, ‘You’re here because of Eren’. They wouldn’t understand, but we’d torture them anyways, and they would know they are in pain because of you.” 

“Stop it,” I whisper. “Levi, please.” 

He shakes his head. “Even your dog is fair game. Trost, right? We know where he is, and nobody is protecting him. Bottom line, you’re very wrong if you think we can’t hurt you. Don’t make us teach you that the hard way.” 

I curl my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “Men like you don’t deserve to be called humans.” 

Levi sighs. “Trust me, the ‘monster’ idea isn’t new. Do us both a favor, kid, and stop repeating yourself. I get it, you hate my guts. You have every right to. Now give it a rest.” 

“Mr. Ackerman?” A voice calls out. 

Levi turns to the small speaker on his armrest and presses a button right by it. “What is it, Hugo?” 

“Sir, we’re going to arrive in about fifteen minutes. Do you have anything I should notify the gate about?” 

“Just tell the gate I have the package I was sent for. Thank you, Hugo.” The intercom blips out. 

“Where are you taking me?” I demand. “And don’t just say you’re taking me to the Boss.” 

Levi adjusts his cuffs. “Eren, we collected you about fourteen hours ago.” 

A shiver slides down my spine. “What do you mean?” 

“I had to knock you unconscious to get you away from your house and into the car. However, we had to catch a flight to France to get back to the family, and I didn’t expect you to cooperate once you woke up. We gave you a sleep aid to keep you unconscious during the flight.” 

I feel numb. My home, my family, my life as I knew it - Levi’s taken me away from everything so quickly, and I didn’t realize just how much has changed until now. “Are we in France, then?” 

Levi studies me carefully. “This is Karanes, in the South of France.” 

I look out of the window. The car rumbles through fields of long grass and rolling wheat. Wildflowers dot the road at random intervals, and the noonday sun bears down on us. 

“You drugged me,” I repeat with disbelief. “For eight hours.” 

“I misjudged the dosage the first time,” Levi admits. I glance at him sharply. “You woke up during the flight. I had to re-administer the drug to put you back under.” I don’t remember that. It must have happened quickly. “It’s just a basic sleep aid,” Levi adds. “Not over the counter, but not dangerous or addictive, either.” 

Damnit. This is going to make escape so much harder. Being in France is one thing, but we’re not anywhere near the German border. In fact, we’re on the completely opposite side of the country. I thought that we would go straight to Germany to negotiate with the Jägers. I can’t speak French, and this is Ackerman turf. They have the home field advantage. 

“Your last name is Ackerman. Are you related to Mr. Ackerman?” I narrow my eyes at Levi. “His son or something? A brother?” From what I saw last night, Levi has more than a couple of minions. He must be a big cheese in the Ackerman family. 

Levi snorts. “Obviously I'm related to him. He’s my uncle.” 

The Ackerman headquarters turn out to be a large house in the middle of nowhere. A tall stone wall surrounds the property, and armed guards keep watch. And when I say armed, I mean _armed_. Machine guns, attack dogs, the whole shebang. It’s all very subtle. We drive up to the gates, and a pair of men walk up to the car. The driver, Hugo, gets out and displays an ID to the first guard. The second one walks up to the car window, and another two keep watch. 

Levi rolls the window down. He and the guard exchange some quiet French, and then we’re waved through the gate. The Ackerman estate is beautiful, I’ll give them that. A winding dirt road droves up to a sprawling, pale blue manor at the top of the hill. The occasional peony bush accents the drive. As we get closer to the mansion, the flowers become more and more frequent to the point where the grass is submerged under a soft pink sea. Levi rolls the window down so that the blossoms’ perfume can drift into the car. 

“Eren,” Levi starts. “There’s something you need to know before we meet the family head. Like I said earlier, you have every right to hate me. I understand. I tore your life apart, and that’s not something I can ever be forgiven for. However, my opinion of you is unusual. Here, there are two things people will think about you. First, they won’t care about your sob story, either because they can’t afford to or because they just don’t give a shit. Second, and more dangerously, they’ll try to hurt you because you hate them. They’ll see you as a threat, a little boy who isn’t loyal to us and has a reason to want us dead. Besides, you’re our enemy’s son.” 

“Whatever my father did,” I spit, “I’m nothing like him. He’s a criminal and an evil man. Mom was scared of the Families because of him, and he’s why we’ve had to watch our backs for the past sixteen years. He’s the reason why Mom watched our backs.” The only reason I’m running to him is because that’s what Mom wanted. The Jägers will be safer than the Ackermans, at least. Maybe, if Grisha is anything resembling a human being, he’ll be upset that his wife is dead. Maybe he’ll retaliate against the Ackermans. 

“You’re missing the point,” Levi says, annoyed. “What I’m trying to tell you is, be careful around the people here. Don’t let them know how much you hate them, and definitely don’t let them know you want them dead. That especially applies when Mr. Ackerman is involved.” 

Hugo parks at the top of the hill, and I follow Levi up the steps to the house. “One last warning.” Levi turns to me. He raises his cell phone. “Do you remember what I said about your friends, Eren? What we could do to them?” I nod. How could I forget? My blood boils just thinking about it. 

“I have some men on speed dial in case I decide that course of action is necessary.” With that friendly statement, he unlocks the door to the house and steps inside. 

Levi leads me down the hallway until we reach a room watched by a pair of guards. They step aside when they see Levi, not giving me a second look. We step inside. “Mon Oncle,” _(Uncle)_ Levi starts. My blood chills. His voice is blank and bored. Levi from last night is back. “C’est moi. J’ai le fils de Grisha Jäger.” I don’t speak French, but I catch ‘Jäger’. The meaning is clear: I got the boy. 

A tall, suited man turns away from the window to study me up and down. I do the same to him. This is Levi's boss? There’s definitely a family resemblance. He and Levi have the same black hair and wide shoulders. From the wrinkles lining his cheeks and forehead, Mr. Ackerman looks about fifty-five or sixty. I don’t see any grey hairs yet, but that could be dye. It doesn’t look like his strength is flagging, that’s for sure. Muscle, not fat and bone, fills his suit. 

Levi and this man have the same grey eyes, but the looks they house are completely different. Mr. Ackerman’s eyes are hard and calculating, almost crafty, while Levi’s have more of a wariness. 

They have different sorts of hardness. Mr. Ackerman is more stony grey, but Levi’s shield is more steel than anything. 

The older man locks eyes with me. I can feel him digging into my soul, tearing through skin and muscle. I resist the urge to squirm. “C'est vraiment un garçon. Regarde, il a peur de moi. Je ne reconnais en rien son père en lui.” _(He really is a boy. Look, he’s scared of me. I see nothing of his father in him)_. The Ackerman curls his lip in distaste. “I guess it doesn’t matter. He’ll be the Jägers’ problem soon enough.” 

"Vous ne m'aviez pas dit que Carla allait être tuée," Levi says. I don't follow the sentence, but I catch Mom's name. _(You told me you weren't going to kill Carla.)_

The family head snorts. " 

“Oh, so now I have to tell you every time I change my mind? Do you think you’re my boss?” 

The Ackerman's eyes narrow. "Elle serait allée à la police." _(She would have gone to the police.)_ He tells Levi. 

"Maintenant, la police va définitivement la contacter." _(Now the police definitely will contact her.)_ Levi says dryly. The older man chuckles. 

"Oui, mais ils ne savent pas que nous sommes impliqués, n'est-ce pas? Je sais ce qui est le mieux pour nous, Levi." _(Right, but they don't know we're involved, do they? I know what's best for us, Levi.)_

Levi presses his mouth together in a tight line. "You lied to me," 

The head's hands move so fast I almost miss the movement, but there's no mistaking the way Levi jerks backwards when his uncle's hand cracks across his cheek. "And has the world ended?" The family head's eyes harden. "Ne discute pas avec moi devant les autres, Levi. Nous en avons déjà parlé, faut-il qu'on reparle de ça ? Ferme-la." _(Don't argue with me in front of other people, Levi. We've had this argument before, do we really need to have it again? Shut up.)_

Levi falls silent, but his eyes still simmer 

Mr. Ackerman turns his attention back to me. "I hope you at least know how to keep your mouth shut," He tells me, "or we're going to have issues while you stay here." 

"Go die in a hole." I answer. The Ackerman head barks out a laugh. 

"Cute. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" 

"She taught me not to tolerate scum like you," I snap. This old fucker, he's like an evil prune. 

The older man's eyes dance with pale light. "It's not smart for little fish to go after big fish." 

"I hope your mother regrets conceiving you," I say. 

Mr. Ackerman roars with laughter. “I like you a lot, Eren. You’ve got spunk. Don’t get me wrong - it just got you in trouble - but I like it. Your family is going to have some fun with you, that’s for sure.” He rises and steps past Levi and me to the door. “Come with me, both of you. There’s something I want to find out.” 

The guards from outside follow us down several flights of stairs into what looks like the basement. The room’s essentially a concrete box. “This isn’t how we normally do things,” Mr. Ackerman says conversationally, “but I thought that I had a good opportunity with this one.” 

The light switch flicks on, and my heart drops. In the center of the room, on his knees, is a man. Ropes bind his wrists and ankles, and a cloth strip covers his mouth. His eyes fly wide with terror when he sees Mr. Ackerman, and then pleading when they land on me. 

“What is this?” Levi asks in a low voice. 

“An experiment.” The head draws his gun. “This piece of scum tried to sell us out to the Krauts.” He turns to Levi. “Did you tell him what kind of bargaining chip he is?” Levi shakes his head. 

“Well,” The Ackerman begins, “Eren, we need you for our business deal with the Jägers. You see, while our family has a firm hold on both France and Spain, we’d like to expand into the German market. The only problem is that they already have plenty of families over there. The Jägers are the most powerful, but you’ve also got the Reiss family and the Fritzes. They control the underworld with an iron fist, and they don’t want competition from us. As far as they’re concerned, we’re interlopers.” Kenny shakes his head. 

“And, apparently, we’re not traditional enough for them. We’re not pure enough for them. We don’t follow their stupid little honor code. Apparently, we aren’t covert enough. It’s crazy. When did the underworld become some old-world country club? 

“Anyways, we want to move into the territory, but we’d like to try to negotiate something without using force. If we have you as a bargaining chip, then we gain control of land without spilling any blood. Once we have some leverage with the Jägers, the other two Families will follow suit.” 

“In any case, this shit tried to give away some plans to the Reiss family.” Mr. Ackerman waggles his gun at the prisoner. “We can’t have that. Traitors don’t belong here.” 

My throat constricts. He’s going to kill a man in cold blood. Mr. Ackerman raises the weapon, checks the magazine, and fiddles with the safety for a minute. Levi watches with his arms folded over his chest. The guards are indifferent. 

Then, the family head raises the gun - 

\- And holds it out to me. 

I step back. “What are you doing?” 

“Start using ‘Sir’,” Mr. Ackerman advises. “Take the gun, Eren.” 

“Why? I don’t want it. It’s yours.” Five pairs of eyes bore into me. The man on the floor tries to speak, but the gag muffles his voice. One of the guards kicks him, and he falls silent 

“Listen, kid. One look at you, and I can tell that you’ve never fired a gun before. That’s going to change right now. It’s not that hard. All you have to do is squeeze the trigger here, and then -” He gestures to the bound man, “- he dies over there. Just watch the recoil.” 

The weight of the gum threatens to pull me down, and the metal is cold enough to burn my skin. I can’t do this. I won’t. 

“You’re going to have to do this sooner or later,” Mr. Ackerman says. “Once we hand you over the Jägers, I doubt that they’re going to let you go home. Especially since you would be living by yourself for a while. My guess is that they’ll put you to work. Besides,” His voice chills, “you don’t get to talk back to me, kid. You definitely don’t get to intervene while I’m disciplining my soldiers.” 

Is that what he’s calling it? Discipline? 

“If you don’t shoot, Levi will do it for you. I know he won’t think twice.” 

I can’t, I won’t, and I’m not going to shoot a man. Even if he has done something wrong, I don’t get to be his executioner. My stomach turns as I realize that he’s going to die whether or not I pull the trigger. 

Defiantly, I turn and put the bullet in the family head's chest. 

I brace myself for the kick, but it doesn’t come. 

Both of the guards raise their firearms, but Mr. Ackerman waves them down. He lets out a low laugh. “If we didn’t need you, I would kill you for that.” He walks over and plucks the weapon out of my hand. “Did you really think I would give you a loaded gun? I knew you would pull some shit like that. Do you know how?” He tosses the weapon aside and produces a second handgun. Mr. Ackerman walks towards the prisoner, the steel glimmering in the dim light. 

“I know the look in your eyes, Eren. It’s close to the expression I see with little kids sometimes.” He presses the gun barrel to the back of the man’s head. “You’ve never killed a man before, and you don’t think you’ll ever have to. You don’t think you should. I thought that maybe watching your mom die might change that expression. It must have rewired something, but not what we need. At least, not enough of it.” 

“I’m glad, actually. The Jägers won’t gain a strong fighter when we hand you over. But you’re weak.” Mr. Ackerman locks eyes with me. “Can you kill a man, Eren Jäger? Can you force him onto his knees and put a bullet in his brain? What about when he’s looking you in the eye? Do you know how to squeeze someone’s neck until their pulse stops under their fingers? How about when they start to beg? Levi can. I can.” 

The gunshot echoes through the room. The man collapses. 

“You can’t.” 

There’s nothing left of the man’s face. His head is barely recognizable, the bullet having beaten it into a mess of pulp and meat. I want to throw up. 

“If you had pulled the trigger on the right man, I would have given you a real bullet in a heartbeat. But you can’t. You’re incapable of hurting a human being.” Mr. Ackerman turns to the guards. “Get that cleaned up.” To Levi, he says, “Find him somewhere to stay, and make sure he doesn’t get out of hand. Don’t fuck it up for once, got it?” 

Out in the hallway, Levi turns to me. “Eren,” Every fiber of him is supercharged with wrath. The indifferent mask is gone, but the fire in his eyes and voice is just as frightening. “Eren, don’t ever do that again.” 

"What, try to do something good?" I eye him dubiously. "That man's an asshole, you know. It's not like he treated you very well, either." 

“Eren, don’t you _dare_. Don’t you fucking dare to try to be noble, or helpful, or a good person. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. In this family, there’s no place for that kind of personality. Did all of my warnings bounce off that thick skull of yours? I thought I put a crack in it last night.” 

“I was trying to help -,” I protest. 

“Focus on helping yourself,” He cuts me off. “The way things are unfolding, you sure as hell need to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Kenny is introduced, Levi says "C’est moi. J’ai le fils de Grisha Jäger.” Eren doesn't know what this says, but the direct translation is "It's me. I have the son of Grisha Jäger." Kenny also uses the informal you when he refers to his nephew. My French is pretty rusty, and it was rudimentary to begin with, so if you catch an error, please tell me!
> 
> This has been a heavy pair of chapters, and I appreciate you sticking around.


	3. Resettlement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thar she blows, fellas! Plot! And right b'hind her, new characters!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, a double update! Partially because it's been so long, and partially because I'm not happy with this next chapter so I'm giving you the fourth one as well. I've had a bit of a slump lately, but this past week has been really productive and I'm back on track!

Blood roars in my ears. I don’t care who Levi is and what he can do. Nobody gets to talk to me like that. I open my mouth to say just that, but a pointed cough behind me penetrates my rage. I spin around, startled, and Levi looks up. “Mike,” He greets evenly. “I didn’t think you would be down here.” 

“Neither did I,” The figure behind us agrees. The tall, blond man looms over both of us. A scruffy beard and mustache give him an almost shaggy appearance, but everything about the way he moves is guarded and purposeful. “Something came up,” He says. When he reaches us, he looks down at me curiously. “Is this Grisha Jäger’s boy?” 

Levi grunts in response. 

Mike leans down to study me, and then - he sniffs me. Like a dog. Like Trost would. I freeze as he smells at my hair. He pulls back with a satisfied nod. “What was that?” I demand. 

Levi has the gall to look amused. “Not something to worry about.” He shifts his attention to the tall man. “What came up?” 

Mike hesitates and looks at me pointedly. Levi murmurs, “Si c’est important, parle français. Il ne le parle pas” _(If it’s important, speak French. He doesn’t speak it)._

Mike chuckles. “Je ne sais pas si c'est important, mais mieux vaut parler en français.” _(I don’t know if it’s important, but French is safe). “Te souviens-tu du problème rencontré dans le quartier Est, la semaine dernière?” (Do you remember the problem in the East district last week?)_

“Le quartier Karanes?” (Of Karanes?) Levi asks. Mike nods. “Il y a eu beaucoup de problèmes dans ce quartier la semaine dernière. Duquel veux-tu parler?” _(There were a lot of problems in that district last week. Which one do you mean?)_

“Celui concernant le trafic d'humains.” _(The human trafficking problem)._

Something unreadable flickers in Levi’s gaze. I try my best to follow the exchange, but it’s hopeless. I took two years of French, but I’ve repressed most of my memories from the class. I remember two phrases: “Je ne sais pas”, or “I don’t know”, and “Je ne parle pas français”, which means “I don’t speak French”. Right about now, I would do anything to remember more. 

“Bien sûr que je m'en souviens,” Levi replies “Qu'en est-il?” _(Of course I remember. What about it?)_

“Le chirurgien veut se rendre au commissariat,” (The surgeon wants to go to the police). Mike says. 

Levi swears under his breath. “I don’t suppose,” he says, “that we could tell the police not to take the case?” 

Mike shakes his head. “You know I wouldn’t be here if we could. We already tried bribery.” 

Levi sighs and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Still not my problem. Why don’t you go talk to the people who are actually in charge of this? I’m not the one who’s supposed to clean up Family messes.” 

“You are now,” Mike says lowly. “We have orders from the boss to deal with the situation.” 

Levi’s silent for a moment, processing Mike’s statement. He draws out his phone. “What’s the address?” Mike shows Levi his own screen. Levi scans it briefly, nods, and then punches in a number. The phone rises to his ear. “Jinn, rassemblez les autres. Nous avons du travail. Je serai là dans vingt minutes. Zacharias viendra avec moi.” _(Jinn, gather the others. We have a job. I will be there in twenty minutes. Zacharias will come with me)_ Levi quickly rattles off a street name and number before ending the call. 

“What’s going on?” I ask. 

Levi stuffs his phone into his pocket. “We do a lot of human trafficking work in the Eastern District of Karanes. One of the operations we do is with organ donors.” 

“Human trafficking with organ donors,” I repeat. “Do they know who they’re giving their organs to?” 

"Depends. There are different ways to handle it. Sometimes they know what’s going on, and they’re just desperate. Sometimes they think they’re coming in for a hip replacement surgery, and they wake up with one kidney gone. Or a missing lung, or a heart. Sometimes all sorts of things end up in a cooler instead of in their bodies. In those cases, they don’t wake up at all.” 

Bile rises in my throat. “That’s disgusting.” 

A muscle ticks in Levi’s jaw. “In any case, it’s a complicated operation. You need a victim, of course, but there are all sorts of people involved. First of all, you need a recruiter to find someone. Once they do, they get a transporter to take them to the doctor. Then the doctor does his work, and the organs are turned over to whoever finances the operation. After that, someone has to buy the goods.” 

“One of our doctors decided that he wants out. The problem is, his job doesn’t have an “out”. We told him so last week, but it looks like he’s trying to go to the cops anyways. It goes without saying that we can’t have him doing that.” 

My blood chills. “What are you going to do to him?” 

Levi’s eyes are hard. “Whatever it takes to change his mind.” He checks his watch. “We should go, or we’ll be late.” 

Mike blinks. “Is the boy coming with us?” 

“Yes,” Levi says curtly. 

“No,” I say at the same time. When I realize what Levi said, I recoil immediately. 

“I’m not going with you so that you can - hurt someone, kill someone, I’m not going to have any part in it!” I practically shout. 

Levi scowls. “You will if I say so.” His expression softens fractionally. “Ideally, nobody would have to touch this kind of work because it wouldn’t exist. The drug trade, exploitation, all the other work the Families do - that’s one thing. But slavery and picking people apart? That’s something entirely. If it was up to me, the Ackermans wouldn’t have anything to do with trafficking.” Mike grunts approvingly. 

“Still, I don’t make the fucking rules,” Levi continues. “When my uncle wants me to wade through his shit, I have to do it. Preferably with a smile, although I’m not bending over quite that far.” 

“And Eren, at the end of the day, you’re going to see a lot of stuff like this. What are you, fifteen?” 

“Sixteen, but I’m going to be seventeen in a few weeks.” 

“There’s no point babying you. I’d like you to have some more practical training, but we have time to do that later,” He says grimly. “Use this as a learning experience.” 

“The only thing I could learn is how horrible you are,” I say fiercely. 

Levi sighs. He makes a few more calls as we head up from the basement. And to the car waiting outside. “My team knows where to go,” Levi explains. “We’ll meet up with them and go from there.” 

“Figures,” I mutter. Of course Levi needs a whole gang to intimidate one man. 

Levi bends down and flips open a small compartment hidden under his seat. “This is yours.” Levi holds the handgun out to me. “It’s a Glock 43. Easy to conceal and carry, and decent for people who don’t know what they’re doing. Take it.” 

Wordlessly, I palm the weapon. The gun might be small, but I’m acutely aware of how dangerous it is. The weight of the magazine presses into my hand. My throat feels rough. “Why would you give this to me?” 

“In case you need to use it,” Levi answers. “Remember to take the safety off before you try to shoot anything.” He points out the safety. “And you only have six rounds, so be careful. I don’t expect you to use it.” He adds before I can protest. “It’s just important not to take any risks.” 

I frown at him. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll shoot you?” 

Levi shrugs. “If you did, it wouldn’t matter. You don’t have anywhere to run to. I know you’re stubborn, kid, but there’s a difference between being stubborn and being stupid.” 

Presently, the vehicle stops and we clamber outside. The sun shines on a cool, wet day. I stiffen. “You’re going to do this is broad daylight?” I didn’t think even the Ackermans were that brazen. 

Levi sighs. “This is when we were told to go.” He says. “We were also told that no cops would show up, but I’m not sure about that. If our bribery attempts didn’t go through, we could face trouble.” 

I frown. “Is it that easy to control the law?” 

“Pretty much,” Levi says. “Wave enough money under their jowls and they’ll come to heel.” He shrugs. “Having the police on your side makes things easier for everyone. We make friends, they don’t have to go through mountains of paperwork, and there are less casualties on both sides. It’s a win-win scenario.” 

Four people wait for us on the sidewalk. As we approach, three men and a woman stop talking among themselves and turn to face us with bright, expectant faces. 

“Alright brats, listen up.” Levi clasps both hands behind his back. Mike moves to stand at his shoulder. “I’ll keep this short, because we have work to do. As you know.” He keeps his voice low, even though the street is empty. It’s the middle of the afternoon lull, and it’s not nice enough for most people to be outside. “First, this is Eren.” Levi gestures to me. “Some of you will remember him from a few days ago.” 

I study the team’s faces intently, searching for signs of familiarity. The woman, a petite, young redhead, is completely foreign. There’s something achingly familiar about the men – one of whom has close-cut black hair, the second of which is a curly, brunet scowler, and the third with his blond hair and scruffy beginning of a goatee. I realize with a jolt that they were with Levi the night the Ackermans came for me. 

“I don’t give a shit what you say to him. Just don’t let him get hurt, or there will be hell to pay. Comprenez-vous? ” _(Do you get me?)_ The group murmurs assent, and Levi continues. “Today, we have a doctor who wants to leave us. We told him earlier that we would overlook his urges if he put them in the past where they belong. Unfortunately, he didn’t take our generous offer, and now he wants to rat us out. Our job is to help him change his mind. Any questions?” 

The group remains silent. Levi nods, satisfied. “Eren, this is Oluo, Eld, Gunther, and Petra,” He introduces the team. “A man’s unit is an extension of himself. Treat my team better than you treat me, and don’t give them any shit. Understood?” 

“Yes,” 

“Yes what?” Levi presses. 

“Yes, Sir.” I reluctantly amend. Satisfied, Levi gestures for his team to move out, and the group strides towards the house. Petra falls into step beside me. 

“Hey,” she says, “I am sorry about your mother.” Her words carry a light French accent. 

I shake my head. “You know, I keep hearing that, but it doesn’t mean anything, okay? You chose to work for the people that killed her. I don’t want your sympathy.” 

Petra’s eyes widen, and anger flashes in her eyes. “I had no part in that.” 

“Right.” I turn away. 

The redhead looks like she wants to bite my head off, but she makes a visible effort to relax. “Very well, then. My apologies.” She turns and murmurs something to the scowler. Both of them flash me a pitying look. 

“Quel garçon stupide,” _(Stupid boy)_ The scowler murmurs. 

“Je comprends,” _(I understand)_ “C'est une situation difficile pour lui,” _(It’s a difficult situation for him)_

We halt on the doorstep of a pale blue house with bursting flowerbeds. Levi rings the doorbell. I take a deep breath and will my palms to stop sweating. 

Here it goes. Just get through this, Eren, and then we can figure out what to do next. It’s going to be hard, watching whatever he does. Maybe I can stop someone from getting seriously hurt. 

Quiet footsteps sound on the other side of the door. A dark blur hovers behind the glass, and then slowly, tentatively, the door cracks open. A long nose and a pair of spectacled eyes peer out at our group. 

When the man’s eyes land on Levi, his skin drains of color until he’s white enough to pass for an albino. His hands grip the doorframe, and his arms shake. He wants to slam the door in our faces. My chest clenches. 

A woman’s voice rises out of the house. “Qui est là?” _(Who’s there?)_

The man takes a long moment to answer. He swallows hard. “Le Milieu.” _(This literally means “The Middle”, but it’s also a word used to refer to organized crime. Here it’s something like “The Mafia”.)_ Silence. 

The man opens the door wide. Levi dips his head and strides into the house. The rest of us follow suit. As we pass, the man presses himself against the wall, as far away from us as possible. I immediately hate the way his eyes crawl over me, afraid and wrathful at the same time. 

The doctor’s wife sits on a sofa, hugging a small dog to her chest. Levi’s team spreads out around the room, standing by all the windows and doors to block the exits. I hover for a minute, unsure where to go. When Mike gestures to me to come join him against the wall, I gratefully hurry over. 

Levi stands in the center of the room, surveying the couple. The man goes to stand next to his wife and puts a protective hand on her shoulder. “Qu'est-ce que vous nous voulez?” He asks. _(What do you want from us_

“Votre loyauté,” _(Your loyalty)_. Levi answers. “Je n'aime pas les menteurs et les hypocrites. Vous avez dit que vous êtes un Ackerman. Soyez-en un.“ _(I don’t like liars and hypocrites. You said you are an Ackerman. Be one.)_

The man swallows. His eyes dart to the door. “Est-ce que j'ai tort d'essayer de m'échapper?“ _(Am I wrong for trying to escape?)_

Levi remains unmoved. “Vous avez fait votre choix.“ _(You made your choice.)_

The man shakes his head. “Je ne savais pas le choix que je faisais.” _(I didn’t know the choice I was making.)_

A weight settles in my stomach as I watch the scene. Last time I saw Ackermans in someone’s home, my family was the one being threatened. Now, I’m watching the encounter from the other side of the glass. 

Levi just shrugs. “C’est votre erreur. Ne les transformez pas en mon problème.” _(That’s your mistake. Don’t turn it into my problem.)_

The man clenches his fists, but he dips his head. “Revenez au travail mercredi.” Levi orders. “Nous ne voulons rien entendre d'autre à votre sujet.” _(Get back to work on Wednesday. We don’t want to hear anything else from you.)_

“Oui, Monsieur,” _(Yes, Sir.)_ The man says quietly. 

Levi frowns. “C'est votre dernier avertissement.” _(This is your final warning.)_

The man nods again. “Is he putting up a fight?” I ask Mike. 

The blond shakes his head. “Not at all.” He scans the room. 

“You would think,” I say quietly, “that if he has the guts to disobey you in the first place, he also has the guts to argue.” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Mike agrees. “Maybe having Ackermans in your home changes that mindset.” 

Levi stands over the couple for a minute more. He turns to Mike. “Tame,” He comments 

“We were just talking about that,” Mike answers. “It might be nothing.” 

“It might be, but that’s not what my gut is telling me.” Levi scans the room. “I don’t like this. Something isn’t right here.” The doctor watches our exchange shrewdly. “Recherchez la maison.” Levi orders. “Search the house. Quickly.” The doctor’s eyes widen. His protests fall on deaf ears as the team spreads out. Door open and close as the unit examines every possible hiding place. Mike begins peering in lamp shades and under furniture. 

“What are you looking for?” I ask. 

“Bugs,” He says shortly. “In case someone’s listening in.” He fixes me with a stern look. “Get over here and help me.” 

I start checking behind the painting in the hallway. “What am I looking for?” 

“Little black things,” Mike advises. “Probably plastic or metal, and somewhere it would be hidden.” 

I check in the umbrella stand and under the rug. Nothing. 

Suddenly, Eld shouts. The man burst into the living room. “Look who I found waiting in the back room.” He announces. He jabs his gun between the man’s shoulders, forcing him to stumble forwards. 

All over the room, weapons flash into view. The doctor and his wife cling to each other. Levi looms over the intruder. “Qui êtes-vous, et pourquoi êtes-vous ici?” _(Who are you, and why are you here?)_

The man spits at Levi. Levi jerks backwards. Unbridled disgust flashes over his face. “Search him.” 

Gunther pats the man down and discovers a wallet and a gun. He tosses the finds to Levi. The raven inspects the weapon. “Police model.” He says. His jaw tightens. Levi checks through the wallet. “Figures,” He holds up a cop badge. “This is Darius Baer-Varbrun. He’s with the Karanes PD.” 

Levi’s team exchanges alarmed glances. I turn to Mike. “What does this mean?” 

“It means,” Mike says gravely, “that the situation just became much more serious.” 

Levi turns to the doctor and his wife. Both of them are petrified. They quake as he begins to speak to them with chilling calmness. 

“I know that the police couldn’t be here without your cooperation,” Mike translates for me. “Care to explain what you were trying to do?” 

My heart jumps. The situation has definitely become more dangerous. Any second now, the room could erupt. 

The doctor stammers out an answer, but his voice trails off. Mike shakes his head. “There’s nothing he can say.” 

“He wasn’t thinking about going to the cops,” It dawns on me. “He already did, didn’t he?” 

Mike nods. “This is some sort of sting operation.” 

“A raid?” I ask. I can’t keep the hope out of my voice. Cop involvement could mean my freedom. And the Ackermans behind bars. 

“That’s unlikely,” Mike says. “There’s only one agent here.” He thinks for a moment. “Although, it is possible. They could be hiding elsewhere. Still, if they wanted to they probably would have already stepped in. If they want solid proof of a crime, they have it. If I was in charge, I wouldn’t wait for one of my men to be in danger before striking.” 

Abruptly, Levi turns his back on the doctor. “Christ.” He says. “Fucking Jesus Christ in Hell. Nothing ever can be easy around here, can it?” Levi sees my eyes land on the police officer. “Don’t even think about it, kid.” He warns. Damn. 

“I hate cop involvement,” Levi sighs. “If you don’t kill them, you get into big trouble. If you do kill them, you’ll get just as much trouble from their friends.” He studies the man on the floor, evaluating him. The team waits quietly, poised for orders. I catch Petra’s eye across the room. Her answering gaze is solemn. 

“Petra, Gunther,” Levi says. “You two stay here. Everyone else, move out. We might have to move quickly.” 

I hesitate. “What’s going to happen?” I ask. 

Oluo brushes past me. “Don’t ask the Capitaine questions,” Eld says quietly. 

I’m still unwilling to leave, but Mike grabs my arm. “Let’s go, Eren.” He says in a low voice. “We can talk about this later.” 

I squirm, but Mike’s grip is unrelenting. "Let me go!" He pulls me to the van and hauls me inside. I press my forehead against the window. “I don’t understand,” I say. “What’s going on?” 

“Think about it,” Mike advises. “What do you think could be happening? My mind immediately jumps to the worst possible scenario. 

A few minutes later, Levi strides down the steps. Petra and Gunther follow on his heels. He exchanges a few words with them before they nod, and the three of them part ways. The moment Levi slides into his seat, I tackle him with questions. “What was that? What did you do to them?” 

“Give me a moment, kid. Put your seatbelt on.” He leans forwards to speak with the driver. “Conduisez” _(Drive.)_

“Good thing you brought the team,” Mike says. Levi nods. 

“Their payment should already be taken care of, but I’ll check later.” He glances at Mike. “That includes yours.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“What happened back there?” I ask. 

“I shot them.” 

I stare. “What?” 

“I shot the three of them,” He repeats. 

Nausea and cold rage roll through my body. “Do you solve all your problems by killing innocent people?” 

“No, and I didn’t plan on killing them. The situation changed.” Levi loosens his tie. “I told the doctor that if he caused any more trouble, it would be the last thing he ever did. That was before he brought the cop in. Make sure the clean-up crew arrives.” He instructs Mike. “I don’t want that officer’s body to be found. And while you’re at it, could you organize a meeting with Nile Dok? I want to know why he had men at one of our meetings. I thought we paid him enough.” Mike nods and begins tapping away on his phone. 

I’m still trying to process everything. “So all three of them are dead?” 

“Of course,” Levi watches me carefully. “It had to happen.” His phone buzzes. He glances briefly at the notification. “Good.” 

“What is it?” I ask. “Another ‘job’?” 

“A package I sent for arrived.” Levi says. “Not like the kind of package you were, either,” He adds, anticipating my next question. “Relax.” 

Yeah, as if I could. When the car reaches the manor and we step out, Levi beckons me. “Come on, I’ll show you where your room is.” 

“I’ll manage.” I say quietly. It’s a bit late for him to ask that question. 

Levi continues to study me. “What?” I say defensively. “I’m not lying.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” When the car reaches the manor and we step out, Levi beckons me. “Come on, I’ll show you where your room is.” 

I glance at the van as it pulls away. “Mike isn’t coming with us?” 

“Mike doesn’t live here.” While we were out, someone decorated the front hall with even more peonies. The pale pink blossoms spill over the floor. Levi wrinkles his nose at the stray petals, but he doesn’t comment on the mess. 

“This will be your room,” He says, swinging open a door at the end of a hallway. “Keep it clean -,” 

His words fade into the background as my eyes latch onto the dark, furry projectile hurtling towards my face. It hits my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. I struggle to get a good look at my attacker. When I do, my heart swells. “Trost?” I ask in joy and disbelief. Trost gives an answering bark. My dog begins to enthusiastically lick my face and hands. The tickling sensation makes me giggle. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his scruff to hide a few stray tears. 

I reach up and frame Trost’s face in my hands. “This is incredible, boy. I’ve missed you so much.” Trost wriggles and licks my nose. I laugh. For the first time in what feels like forever, I laugh. “How did you get here?” 

“I put him on the earliest flight I could.” I jump. I was so caught up in seeing Trost again, I forgot Levi was here too. I turn to him. “You did this?” 

“Of course. Who else?” Levi leans against the closed door, watching us with an unreadable expression. “I lied to you earlier.” He admits. “Nobody is actually going to use your dog as leverage.” He scowls down at Trost. “Although it’s not,” he growls, “as if said dog is at all grateful.” Trost growls right back. His ears flatten against his skull. “Fucking mutt almost bit me twice when I tried to bring him here,” Levi seethes. “Keep him out of trouble. If he shits on the floor, you have to clean it up. And don’t let him near the cat.” 

“Trost loves cats.” I scratch behind the rotweiller’s ears to pacify him. “I didn’t know you have a pet. Where is it?” 

Levi sighs. “The beast is fucking Hange’s fucking cat, not mine. You’ll see it around here eventually.” 

“Who’s Hange?” Another monster friend? 

“A complete lunatic,” Levi answers. “You’ll meet her soon. She’s probably dying to see you.” 

Trost presses his nose into my palm. “Alright, kid.” Levi says, detaching himself from the doorframe. “You two can cuddle later. I need to rest, so you’re getting your room tour now.” 

I look around my new room. The air carries the acidic tang of cleaner. There’s a single bed pressed up against the wall, complete with clean sheets. The room has bookshelves, a bedside table, and a dresser, but they’re all empty and stark. 

“The room will be locked at night,” Levi says. I open my mouth to protest. Quickly, he adds, “Not so much to keep you in as to keep other people out. There’ll be a guard outside, too.” 

My skin prickles. “What, is there more danger to worry about?” 

“Maybe,” Levi shrugs. “You’re valuable, and people tend to want valuable things. We have to be careful.” He looks like he wants to duct tape my mouth shut. 

“Through that door’s an attached bathroom,” Levi continues. “For the love of God, please take a shower before you go to bed. Or a bath. Just clean up, okay? Towels and soap are provided, and there are some spare clothes in the armoire. They should fit.” My stomach gurgles in an excellent rendition of a humpback whale, and a blush flares over my skin. “Dinner is at nine every evening, no exceptions. And you don’t get breakfast in bed, either. Wake up and be ready to eat by eight, or I’ll drag you downstairs myself.” 

“My room is across the hall,” Levi says. “Come get me if you need something, but don’t make a habit of visiting.” 

“I don’t want to hang out in your room either.” I assure him dryly. 

“I’m serious. I don’t have enough time to myself as it is. One more thing. If another little shit comes in here, be nice to her.” 

I look up at him questioningly. “Who would that be?” 

“Someone. You’ll probably know by tomorrow.” Levi opens the door to go. 

“Levi?” I ask tentatively. He pauses. 

“What is it, kid?” 

I hesitate. “What your uncle did…” 

“When he hit me?” Levi finishes bluntly. 

I wrap my arms around Trost’s neck. “Not just that. The way he spoke to you, too. Don’t get mad at me for asking. That was horrible.” 

“Ah,” Levi adjusts his cuff links. His eyes superglue themselves to the floor. “That’s legitimate. I shouldn’t have blown up at you earlier. I’m sorry about that.” He sighs. “Kenny isn’t a monster, but he’s fucked on a lot of different levels, and we have a complicated relationship.” 

I frown. “What I saw was more than complicated.” I press. 

“I know. But that doesn’t usually happen.” Levi shakes his head. “It’s cute of you, but drop it.” 

I file the information away for later. “Alright.” My face burns, and I tighten my hold on Trost’s neck. “Thank you.” 

Levi stares. “What?” 

I swallow. “Thank you for bringing Trost here.” I have to force the words out. Believe me, I don’t want to thank him for anything. Still, it’s legitimately nice that he brought Trost, even if I don’t really understand why he would be so nice. It could be a trap, a way to earn my trust. 

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Brat.” 

“No, I mean it.” I persist. “You don’t know how much he means to me. Trost is…” I choke out the words past the lump in my throat. “Trost means home.” 

Levi softens. “You’re welcome, kid. A few words of advice: Don’t drown in the bathtub.” 

After Levi leaves, I take a long shower. It feels good to be clean after almost two sweaty, crazy days. Afterwards, I dry off and pull on a clean t-shirt and some sweatpants from the dresser. They fit perfectly. It’s a little creepy that whoever stocked the clothes know my sizes so well, even across brands. I try not to think about it too much. 

There’s a dog bed placed at the foot of my own, but when I flop down on the mattress, Trost clambers up beside me. The dog rests his head on my stomach, and I pet him while I stare at the ceiling. I almost wish that I hadn’t been asleep on the flight to France. If I had been awake, I might be able to snooze before dinner. 

“You and me, boy,” I tell Trost with a smile. “There’s some crazy stuff in store for us here.” Trust huffs into my shirt. A smile creeps across my face. “And some really bad stuff. But we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

Trost licks a wet trail down my cheek. 

“Yeah,” I agree. I plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’re gonna bring this place down, and get revenge. Then we’ll be able to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trost must be protected at all costs.


	4. Pack Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's joy. Where have you been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice, fluffy chapter about the adorable creature that is Isabel Magnolia meeting Eren. Plus a few other guys and a horse.

Wakey wakey, sleepyhead!” A sing-song voice calls in my ear. I groan and reach out blindly for a pillow to press over my head, but my hands grab empty air. I crack my eyes open and immediately wince at the sunlight that floods the room. I drop my eyes away from the window, and they land on the girl sitting on the floor. A pair of short scarlet pigtails and huge green eyes stare back at me. “Hi,” The girl grins. “I’m Isabel Magnolia. What’s your name?” 

“Um, Eren.” I scramble upright. “What are you doing here?” Didn’t Levi say that there was a guard posted outside the door? How did she get past them? 

The girl tilts her head to the side. “I wanted to say hi. My brother and I were out when you came.” She pouts. “By the time we got back, we missed you. We missed dinner, too. You have no idea how mad the cook was when she caught us sneaking into the kitchen.” 

My sleepy brain tries to process her words. “Wait, you live here? Are you an Ackerman? Not as a gangster, but as a member of the Ackerman family?” I eye her with new suspicion. 

Isabel laughs. “No. Do you know that all the Ackermans look the same?” She nods. “All of them have black hair and grey eyes. It makes them stand out.” 

“That’s good to know.” My eyes fall on Trost’s bed, but the dog is nowhere to be seen. “Crap. Trost?” 

Trost yips in response. The Rottweiler is currently splayed out over the floor while the girl – Isabel – rubs his stomach vigorously. Isabel’s smile widens. “He’s your dog, right? Lucky. Big Brother won’t let me get a dog. He says that they slobber everywhere and they don’t know how to clean up after themselves.” She folds her legs in her lap. “I wouldn’t mind, though. We have a cat, but it’s horrible.” 

I stretch. “Your older brother… he’s the one you were out with yesterday?” 

Isabel shakes her head. “No, that’s my other older brother. Levi is my Big Brother.” 

I almost choke on my yawn. “I thought you said you aren’t an Ackerman.” 

Isabel shrugs. “Siblings don’t have to be related by blood, do they?” 

“I guess not,” I admit. Something Levi said last night comes back to me: _Oh, and one more thing. If another little shit comes in here, be nice to her._ Now that makes sense. 

“Isabel!” A harried-looking blond man, maybe eighteen or nineteen, bursts through the door. “There you are!” 

“That’s my other older brother,” Isabel tells me confidingly. “Hey, Farlan!” she chirps more loudly. “I got here first! His name is Eren.” 

Farlan rolls his eyes. “I know,” 

Isabel looks completely betrayed. “What? How?” 

“I listen when Levi briefs us at breakfast, doofus.” Farlan playfully flicks her hair. 

“I listen to him!” Isabel insists. 

“Not yesterday, you didn’t,” Farlan challenges. “You were too busy cramming blueberry tarts down your throat.” 

“Hey,” Isabel says defensively. “Sasha makes really good blueberry tarts, okay? And she doesn’t make them very often, so I have to stock up while I still can.” 

“Ah,” Farlan nods. “That explains why you have a dozen of them hidden under your bed.” 

Isabel stares at him, aghast. “If you touched them, I swear…” 

Farlan throws his arms up. “No! I don’t want to touch them. But why would they be under your bed, of all places? Can’t you put them in a box? A drawer?” 

“I don’t have anywhere else to put them.” Isabel argues. “Every other container I have is already filled up.” 

“With what?” Farlan shakes his head in exasperation. “Look, I’m only getting on your case because there are going to be crumbs everywhere. You know how Levi is. If he finds out, he’s going to freak.” 

“If I find out about what?” The three of us whip around to see Levi, already in a dress shirt and slacks, standing in the doorway. Isabel squeals and launches herself towards him. Levi wraps his arms around her tightly. “Fuck, Isabel, don’t kill me. You’re squeezing too hard.” Trost, deprived of Isabel’s touch, stares at Levi with a loathing that I never knew dogs were capable of. Unwilling to get up just yet, I reach down and stroke the top of his head. 

Trost calms me down a little bit. Once Levi walked in, every nerve in my body went haywire. It looks like my danger-free morning is long gone. “What are you doing in here?” I ask. 

“You three are making a fucking racket,” Levi says when Isabel finally releases him. “The whole house can probably hear you.” 

“Sorry,” Isabel says, completely unashamed. 

Levi rolls his eyes. “Breakfast is on the table. Let’s go, yeah? Eren?” 

“Yeah?” I’m suddenly hyper aware that I’m sprawled out over the bed in a t-shirt, sweats, and sporting slept-on hair. 

Clearly, Levi is also aware. He eyes me doubtfully. “Clean up and come join us. Quickly, though.” I nod wordlessly, and the three of them file out. The door closes after them. 

I haul myself out of bed, wincing as my feet touch the freezing floor. I splash some water on my face and pull on a fresh shirt and a pair of jeans. My shoes are by the door, where I left them last night. I try to comb out my hair, but there’s only so much I can do. It’s relatively neat, but it still looks like a bird used it as a nest. 

Trost pads behind me as I head downstairs. I remember the dining room from my dinner last night. When I pass the guards and step into the wide room, breakfast is already in full swing. Cutlery and teacups clatter. Dishes piled high with pastries jostle for space on the crisp white tablecloth. 

Yesterday evening, the layout of chairs along the rectangular table piqued my interest. Levi told me this was the family dining room, but there were six chairs – one on each end, and two on both sides. Assuming that Levi sat on one end, the family head on the other, and me somewhere in between, that still left a lot of gaps to fill. 

I originally asked if I could just eat in my room. I didn’t want to be close to either Levi or his uncle. Levi refused, saying that we had to uphold some semblance of manners – that’s rich, coming from him – and Levi's uncle never joined us. 

Now, the table looks less empty. Levi sits at one end, reading from the local newspaper. Isabel and Farlan are placed next to each other, bickering. Levi glances up as I walk in. “Better,” He says approvingly, looking over my outfit. “We’ll find you something a bit more formal later.” He glances at Trost. “You brought the dog with you?” 

“Yeah.” I meet his gaze, daring him to speak out. “I don’t want to leave him up in the room.” 

“It’s fine.” Levi calls one of the servants over and gives them a few instructions in French. “I’ll have them give him something to eat. We don’t have any dog food. Can he just have meat?” 

I blink, startled. “Uh, yeah, that’ll work. Just bones, please.” Levi nods and relays the information. The servant nods and disappears. 

I turn my attention to the spread before me and immediately begin filling my plate with fresh fruit and buttery, sugary carb goodness. “What’s this?” I hold up one pastry. 

“That’s pain au chocolat,” Farlan tells me over his espresso. “Try it. It’s good.” 

It is good. I try to slow down, but I can’t help it. I’m ravenous, and the food is delicious. 

The servant reappears with a dish heaping with meat, which she sets down before Trost. I gape at it. “Is that steak?” 

“Yes,” Levi blinks at me. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, I mean, we would never feed him steak at home.” I grin down at him. “Lucky boy. Just don’t get spoiled.” I do a double take when I see what the meat is placed on. “Levi, is that porcelain?” 

“We don’t have a dog bowl.” 

The same servant offers me a tray with several steaming pots. “Que voulez-vous boire, Monsieur ? Je vous propose du café, du thé, ou encore un chocolat chaud.” 

My chest flutters. “Uhhh…” 

Understanding, and them embarrassment, flickers across the girl’s face. 

“She wants to know if you want anything to drink,” Isabel steps in. “Do you want coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?” 

“Oh.” My face burns. “I’d like a coffee, thank you. No milk or sugar or anything.” 

Isabel translates, and the girl quickly sets a steaming cup in front of me. “Merci,” I try. There. Madame Tommydeureve would be proud. The girl smiles and flits away. 

“Where can I learn French?” I ask Levi. “It doesn’t make sense to spend a lot of time in the country without trying to pick up the language.” 

Levi chuckles. “The best way to learn is by listening and trying to imitate what you hear. Just absorb the language.” 

I growl at him. “Please. You just want to be able to say things in French knowing I can’t understand you.” 

“That too,” Levi agrees. His phone rings. Levi glances at the contact and frowns. “Excuse me for one minute.” He rises and steps out of the dining room. 

Isabel scrapes the last dregs of chocolate out of her mug. Farlan sighs in exasperation. “Izzy, you’re going to be late if you don’t leave now.” 

“So are you,” She counters. 

“You’re in school?” I ask. Both of them nod. 

“Well,” Isabel amends, “I’m in Collège.” Seeing my confusion, she explains, “It’s secondary school. I’m an eighth-year student.” She pushes her plate away from her, and Mina quickly takes it away. “Farlan’s going to l’École Polytechnique, but he’s on break.” 

Farlan flushes. “He doesn’t know what that means either, Izzy.” 

“It’s a really good school.” Isabel elaborates. 

“A university?” I ask. 

“Basically,” Farlan says. “I’d like to be an engineer.” 

“Wow, good for you,” I say, genuinely impressed. I haven’t thought much about what I want to do after school, although, I note bitterly, I’m not sure that matters now. A lot of my friends were already preparing for a career in their sophomore year, but I always thought that they had it all wrong. I mean, if they knew what they wanted to do, that’s great, and good for them. I would rather try a few different things before I shackle myself to one option. 

“Sorry about that,” Levi reappears. His expression is even stormier than usual. “Isabel, are you still here? You have to leave for class. I don’t want any more complaints from your teacher because you can’t tell time.” 

Isabel snorts. “My teachers don’t complain to you. Are we in the paper again?” Most children would ask that question eagerly, hopefully. However, when Isabel asks, her expression is solemn. 

“Not over anything avoidable.” Levi ruffles her hair affectionately. Isabel doesn’t look convinced. 

“Fine,” She hops off her chair and grabs the backpack by her feet. “Have a good day, bro.” She turns and gives the room a grand, sweeping wave. “Goodbye, everyone! It’s time for me to visit hell.” She skips out of the room before either of her siblings can protest. 

Farlan shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his lips. “Melodramatic as always.” He looks at Levi quizzically. “What happened?” 

Levi sighs. “Fucking police. The officer that went missing yesterday is in the paper,” 

My skin crawls as I realize just which officer he’s referring to. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised.” 

“Oh, I’m not.” Levi agrees. “It’s irritating, though.” His scowl deepens. “I have to talk to the police chief later, see what he knows about all this.” 

My eyes run over the newspaper deposited on the tablecloth. An image of the officer’s face is stamped across the front cover, along with a bold headline. “You know, Isabel is going to see this. There’s no point in hiding it.” 

Farlan makes an approving noise from across the table. “See, Levi? He agrees with me.” To me, he adds, “Good luck getting him to listen.” 

Levi pours himself another cup of tea. “Brats. Can’t a working man eat his breakfast in peace?” 

“What are the rules on me leaving the house?” I ask abruptly. “Or are you going to lock me up indoors?” 

Levi looks at me over the rim of his teacup. “Ask if you want to leave, and you might be able to go out for a bit.” 

““I have to walk Trost today,” I say. “Can I go this afternoon?” I resent having to ask for permission, but I get it. It’s a security risk to let me wander around. 

Levi ponders the question. “Once Isabel comes home from school, she can come with you.” Relief washes over me. Better Isabel than a meathead guard. Besides, she seems sweet. 

“She’ll like that,” Farlan smiles. The blue-eyed man rises from the table. “Well, I’m nothing if not the dutiful student. Just because it’s break doesn’t mean my professors didn’t give me any assignments. See you later, Eren.” 

Levi wipes his hands with his cloth napkin. “You’ll be on your own for most of the day. Your guard should be here any second now. He’s very good. One of our local leaders, in fact. You know what I’m going to tell you.” 

“Be nice to him?” I guess. 

“Mmm-hmm.” He sets aside his silverware. “If you want to explore the grounds, that’s fine, but bring him with you. The only place you aren’t allowed to be in is the west wing.” 

“The west wing?” I repeat. “That’s where Kenny’s room is, right?” 

“Mr. Ackerman.” Levi corrects me. “But yes.” 

“I’m not going to seek him out, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I assure him. “I’m not stupid.” 

“You can tell yourself that, but that’s beside the point. I’m not concerned with you seeking him out.” Levi says. “I’m not concerned with you seeing him at all.” 

“Then what-,” I start. 

“Leave it be.” Levi warns me. Just don’t go into the west wing, okay?” 

“Okay,” I reluctantly agree. 

Levi hesitates, and it looks like he’s going to say something else, but a knock on the door makes us both turn. A young man with ash brown hair stands stiffly in the entrance to the dining room, dressed in what I’ve decided must be the standard attire: plain black suit, and a gun. 

“Ah, Jean.” Levi rises. “Excellent. Eren, this is Jean Kirstein. He’ll be your guard for however long you stay with us. Jean, this is Eren.” He pauses. “Eren Jäger.” 

Jean’s eyes widen and he looks me up and down with naked appraisal. “I’m glad to be of service, Mr. Ackerman.” He tells Levi respectfully. 

“And I’m glad you’re here to help.” Levi steps past us. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. If anything is unclear, or if something goes wrong, you know where to reach me.” 

Jean nods in confirmation as Levi exits the room. The moment the raven disappears, Jean says, “So, you’re Grisha Jäger’s son.” 

There’s an edge to his voice that immediately rubs me the wrong way. “Yeah. That doesn’t mean anything to me. Do you have a problem with it?” 

Jean crosses his arms over his chest. “Hey, I don’t like the idea of having your family right in the center of operations. Can you blame me? You wouldn’t want Ackermans in your house. What the hell are you doing here? Mr. Jäger.” He added. 

My blood boils. “What makes you think I want to be here?” I shoot back. 

Jean laughs. “Well, what other assumption am I supposed to make? I don’t know shit about you.” 

“Oh, I know,” I say darkly. 

Jean rolls his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, pal, but you’re looking at an Ackerman officer. I’m a big shot, and that means that one -,” He raises one finger – “I’m one of the best at what I do, and two -,” He raises a second finger – “I’m trusted.” The smug grin on his face widens. “So excuse me if I’m a little concerned with your presence.” 

I bare my teeth right back. Oh man, this guy really is something. Arrogant, and cocky to boot. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re real trusted. That’s why Levi didn’t tell you why I’m here.” 

Jean stiffens. “I trust Mr. Ackerman. It’s you I don’t like.” 

I sigh. “I don’t know how you could like him, and trust me, the feeling is mutual. Anyways, I’m not hear because I want to be at all. Trust me, I’d rather be far, far away.” I’d like to be on a different planet entirely. Or, no, I won’t leave Earth for these people. They can go live on the moon. I stop and lean against the wall. “I’m basically a hostage here.” 

“Which doesn’t change anything,” Jean points out. “You’re still working for your daddy back in Germany.” 

I scowl. “No, I’m not. I’ve never met him.” 

“But you do work for him, don’t you?” 

I laugh. “No. Never.” Quickly, I explain my situation. I don’t give Jean all the details, but he hears enough to understand. His eyes widen throughout the story, but he doesn’t interrupt. If he did, I would rip his mouth off in a second. 

When I finish, he says, “Wow man, that sucks. I’m sorry.” 

“That sucks” doesn’t even begin to describe it. “Thanks.” I shrug off his apology. This topic makes me uncomfortable, and I don’t really want to sit and discuss it any longer. 

“Why are you here?” 

Jean stares. “What are we, exchanging life stories? That’s none of your business.” 

“Do you honestly expect me to let a criminal guard me?” 

Jean stifles a sigh. “You’re pretty high and mighty, aren’t you? I owe the family a lot, so here I am. End of the story.” 

“Oh. How?” 

“Not your business,” He scowls. “Now, I missed breakfast to come watch your sorry ass. We’re gonna go to the kitchens.” Before I can protest, he turns and marches down the hall. 

I trail after him down the hall. “Sounds like bad planning on your part. I thought adults were supposed to have their shit together.” 

Jean bursts out laughing. “That’s the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Adult life sucks. You would think that living on your own, doing whatever you want and eating pizza three meals a day would be great. It is, but once the thrill wears off, you have to pay your bills.” Jean shakes his head. “You kids have no idea. We let you believe that the real world is all fun and games because we want you to be as miserable as we are.” 

“Melodramatic.” I look up and down the hallway, but our surroundings are unfamiliar. Nevertheless, Jean strides ahead purposefully. “Do you know where we’re going, or are you just pretending?” I ask. 

“I know where we’re going. When I was a kid, I used to play here,” Jean says proudly. 

“Really?” I ask curiously. “Why, were you friends with Levi or something?” 

Jean laughs. “Mr. Ackerman and me? Friends? Hell, no. Do you have any idea how old he is?” 

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.” 

“Eren, Mr. Ackerman just turned thirty-five.” 

“Seriously?” I blanch. “He doesn’t look older than twenty-five.” Unless he slicks his hair back, I think to myself. Today, he had his hair down, and the sharp undercut made him look very young. 

“I know. That’s why it’s funny. I did meet his brother, though. Farlan. He’s nice. Really brainy, but a good guy. I never really knew Isabel.” 

“What’s the story behind those two?” I ask curiously. “They’re adopted, aren’t they?” 

Jean nods. “Yeah, that’s what I’d assume. It’s not a topic they ever brought up. All I know is that Mr. Ackerman is really protective of them.” My mind flashes back to Isabel and 

Levi at the breakfast table, and Levi’s quick dismissal of yesterday’s affairs. “Anyways,” Jean continues, “The reason I spent time here is because Ms. Ackerman does a lot of community outreach. Work with kids, stuff like that. She’s a good woman,” He says affectionately. 

“Ms. Ackerman?” My mind races. “Levi’s...wife?” 

Jean snorts. “Mr. Ackerman, married? I can’t see that happening. No, Ms. Ackerman is his mother.” He looks at me curiously. “You don’t know about her?” 

“Does Levi seem like the kind of person who would open up about his family?” I ask. 

Jean shrugs. “I don’t really know him. But yeah, I can see what you mean. Well, Ms. Ackerman is his mother. I don’t remember her very well, but she loved to play with the kids. I hear now that she’s pretty elusive. Keeps to herself a lot, that sort of thing. She used to spend a lot of time on the grounds.” Jean flicks at one of the nearby potted peonies. “All the flowers on the hill? Those are hers.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” Jean shoots me a look that asks whether or not I’m both stupid and deaf. “What, did you think they were Boss Ackerman’s?” 

“Of course not.” I bristle. “I just didn’t know.” 

“They’re all hers. She loves peonies. Of course, these days she doesn’t go outside much. If she did, it would be the gossip of the city. These days, she sticks to her room in the west wing.” 

I jolt. “She lives in the west wing.” Is that why Levi told me not to go? If it wasn’t because of Kenny, it would explain it. Unless there’s another Ackerman hidden away. But why would he want me to stay away from his mother? Is she anything like her brother? No, Jean just said she was a good woman. There has to be another piece to the puzzle. 

Jean looks at me strangely. “All the Ackermans live in the west wing.” 

“Levi doesn’t,” I answer confidently. “His room is right across from mine.” 

“Well, he probably still has a room in the west wing.” Jean makes a face. “Stop calling Mr. Ackerman by his first name.” 

“Why?” My eyes narrow. 

“Because it’s weird, okay? He’s important, and you talk about him so casually. Like you’re friends or something” 

“We’re definitely not friends,” I assure him. 

“Then don’t give people the wrong idea, dumbass.” 

The sweet, warm scent of baked goods wafts through the air. Jean inhales deeply. “From here,” he tells me, “you don’t even have to know the way. Just follow your nose.” The scents get stronger and stronger until I have to swallow back my drool. We stop before a wide set of double doors practically bursting at the seams with delicious-smelling steam. Beyond the door lies a wide kitchen bustling with staff. “Sasha!” Jean calls. A ponytailed brunette look up from her cutting board. “Sasha, do you have anything left from breakfast? I’ll kill for a tartine right about now.” Sasha rolls her eyes. 

“Jean, my staff and I have enough work to do without you showing your ugly face around here. You get in the way.” She jabs her knife in our direction. “Mon Dieu, Kirstein, you’re terrible.” 

“So… is that a yes or a no?” 

Sasha shakes her head. “There’s some bread left in the back. You better hurry. It’s going to be distributed soon.” Jean hurries towards the back of the kitchen, brushing past staff and ducking under trays. 

Sasha continues her work, but she looks at me curiously. “And you’re Eren.” 

I start. “How do you know my name?” 

Sasha smirks. “We kitchen staff hear all the latest gossip. People come down all the time, and if they can tell us something interesting, we’ll give them an extra pastry for their trouble. We know all the servants and guards,” she says proudly, “and everything that happens in this house.” She leans across her work station. “When a new boy comes into the house, unannounced and with zero background, personally being taken care of by the underboss, people talk. To me.” She wiggles an eyebrow. "You wanna contribute something?" 

The sudden intensity sends a shiver down my spine. “I don’t think I can tell you anything” I say. Sasha shrugs. 

“I figured. It doesn’t matter. I’ll find everything out eventually.” 

I don’t doubt it. “Breakfast was incredible,” I change the subject. Sasha’s eyes flicker knowingly, but she puffs out her chest. 

“I would hope so! I personally vet each dish before we serve it.” 

“By which she means that she eats half of it,” Jean teases. The ashbrown speaks around the piece of bread in his mouth. Another three pastries are clutches in his hand. 

Sasha glares at him. “My standards are very high.” 

“A regular food critic,” Jean agrees solemnly. To me, he adds, “She’ll eat anything.” He leans against the counter. “You know, I’m a good guy. If you’re willing to let me, I’ll help out down here. I’ll have you both know that I’m an excellent cook.” 

Sasha and I both look at him doubtfully. “You don’t believe me? I can make a mean omelet.” 

“Uh-huh,” Sasha responds. “Please. If I invited you down, you’d eat all of my food.” A crooked smile tugs at her mouth. “You just want attention from everyone passing through here, don’t you? You’d love the opportunity to get in on the juiciest secrets in town.” 

“Can you blame me? Some pretty important people come pop into this place. Besides, me eating your food? And you being upset about it? That’s illogical.” Jean stuffs another pastry into his mouth. “It’s going to get eaten anyways.” 

“Not by you, dumbass,” I counter. 

Jean shoots me a wry smile. “Snob. What’s for dinner?” He asks the chef. 

“It’s not even nine-thirty, Kirstein,” Sasha says. 

“I know, but I think I’m going to get to eat with the Ackermans, and I’m hungry.” 

Sasha's eyes gleam "I'm making a beef roast with some wilted greens, a lemon-vinaigrette sauce, and some crushed pistachios.” 

“Do you have any samples on hand now?” 

“As if I'll share!” She swats at him with a wooden spoon. “I think Connie is a bad influence on you. Except that Connie actually helps cook the food he eats, and you just mooch off of me like there’s no tomorrow.” 

Jean flashes her a cocky grin. “Hey, in this line of work, there may not be.” 

Sasha throws her arms up in despair. “Get out of my kitchen, and leave my food alone. You.” She turns to me. “He’s your guard, right? Doesn’t he have to do as you say?” 

It dawns on me that she’s probably right, and I cast a sly glance in Jean’s direction. He has the sense to look alarmed. “Don’t even think about it, Jäger,” He warns me. 

It’s tempting to push him, but Sasha looks like she’s going to start cutting us with that knife any moment now. “Don’t forget what I can do,” I say instead. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

**Levi**

“Nile Dok.” I eye the police chief from behind my desk. “Welcome. Please, take a seat,” 

“Mr. Ackerman.” Nile smiles tightly. “Will you uncle be joining us today?” 

“No,” I answer simply. Nile doesn’t ask for an explanation, and I don’t give one. I don’t know what the hell Kenny is doing anyways. 

Nile politely sips at his tea. I’ve always found the head of the Karanes PD to be a hardass, and rigid at the worst possible times, but he’s not a bad man. I don’t want to accuse him of anything today. 

Nile’s eyes flicker to the figures standing behind me. Surprise, and then unease, pass over his features. Neither of us, much less the pair themselves, comment, but their presence darkens the room considerably. Even after so many years of working with them, the back of my neck prickles as the two stands behind me. The man is watching both of us intently, I know it – and it’s his job, but he’s really fucking creepy. “Before we begin, Mr. Ackerman.” Nile puts down his cup and folds his hands over his lap. “I’d like to ask you a question regarding what happened yesterday.” 

“About your officer?” Nile nods. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect any less from you.” 

“Were you responsible for his death?” Nile questions. 

“Yes.” Nile blanches. “I shot him myself. It was unavoidable, Mr. Dok.” We both glance at the newspaper on my desk and the bright-faced officer printed on the front. “I thought we had an agreement. You don’t interfere with our work, and we pay you enough to send your children to good American universities. That’s how it’s been for years. Why did the police agree to help our doctor? And what was the objective of the officer stationed at the house?” 

Nile purses his lips. “Darius was a good man. I assure you, Mr. Ackerman. I had no knowledge of his involvement until I saw the headline this morning. I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to undermine our partnership.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” I respond. “How can you have no knowledge of what your subordinates are doing? Please don’t tell me that you’re so completely disorganized.” 

Nile flushes. “No, of course not. I’m concerned that some of my subordinates might be operating independently.” 

“That’s not reassuring.” I warn him. 

“I have a new officer who’s quickly becoming a problem.” Nile elaborates, “and I believe that he has a group that is loyal to him rather than to the department as a whole.” 

I lean back in my chair. “Oh?” 

“His name is Erwin Smith. He’s only been in the department for a few months, but he’s very perceptive and extremely capable.” 

“Dangerous combination,” I note. Nile nods. 

“I believe that he’s aware of our agreements. One of his goals is to cut down on corruption.” Nile pauses. “And he’s very much against the Ackermans.” 

“How is this relevant?” I ask. 

“He has an inner circle of officers,” Nile explains, “and they know information about our interactions that they shouldn’t. I believe that yesterday, they acted on some of their knowledge and stationed an officer in the home so that they could begin to build a case against you.” 

“So you’re telling me,” I say slowly, “that you have an officer who is able to operate independently, working against us, and that is why Darius Baer-Varburn was involved in our business?” 

“That’s correct.” 

I sigh. “Then your department is porous, and you have a spy infiltrating our communications.” I drum my hands on the tabletop. “That’s worrying. I want more evidence.” Nile dips his heads. 

“Of course, I understand.” 

“I’ll have my people look into it,” I promise. “And I hope that you will do the same.” 

“Certainly,” Nile agrees. “We are partners, after all. I wouldn’t dream of forcing you to shoulder the work.” 

“Then we’re in agreement,” I say decisively. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?” 

Nile shakes his head. “No, I think that’s it. I’ll contact you if anything comes up.” 

“Naturally.” Nile rises to leave. “Oh, and Mr. Dok?” He turns, one hand on the door. 

“Yes, Mr. Ackerman?” He asks warily. 

“I know you would like to avoid government deaths, but if what you’re telling me is true, then they are unavoidable. I hope you realize that. And if you’re lying to me, and Darius’s involvement was your doing, I’ll turn you over to my deputy.” Nile swallows hard. 

“That’s what I supposed. Mr. Ackerman, about the payments to me and my men. Are they -,” He falters. 

“Your payments aren’t in jeopardy. Not yet.” Nile’s shoulders sag in relief. 

“That’s all I wanted to know. Goodbye, Mr. Ackerman.” 

“Take care of yourself, Mr. Dok.” 

The three of us wait until the door clicks behind him and his footsteps fade in the hall. Then, we turn and watch from the office window as he steps out the front doors, climbs into his car, and drives off. Only then do I address the people with me. 

“Did you catch all that, Armin?” 

Armin Arlert laughs softly. “Of course, Sir. Would you like me to investigate Erwin Smith?” 

“I want everything and anything you can find on him. You know the drill.” Armin’s wide blue eyes gleam in the afternoon light. He seems innocent enough, a wide-eyed, shaggy-haired boy in a slightly rumpled suit. Young and bright with a sweet smile. 

Nothing could be further from the truth. Armin can be a nice kid when he wants to be, but he’s also a genius. And all geniuses are a little fucked in the head. Some more than others. 

“Mikasa,” I turn to the woman. My cousin perches on the edge of the windowsill, perfectly poised and, as always, immaculately dressed. Her trademark crimson scarf winds around her throat. “Can you tail Nile for me? Just for a week or so?” 

“You don’t trust him.” She says. “What do you want me to do if he’s double-crossing us?” 

“I don’t care. Think up something special.” She nods thoughtfully. “I might have you eliminate Erwin if Armin finds anything worrying.” 

“Fine by me.” She slides off the windowsill and smoothes her dress down. “Can I go? I have a date with Annie at the gym.” 

“To spar,” Armin clarifies. Mikasa shoots him a withering look. 

“You don’t have to know that.” 

“No?” Armin shrugs and leans against the wall. “Hey, Mr. Ackerman. What happened to my last target?” He turns his glittering gaze on me. “What happened to Eren Jäger?” 

“He’s doing fine,” I say shortly. “Do I have to say much? You’ll seek him out yourself. You probably will too,” I add, speaking to Mikasa. Both operatives laugh. 

“Most likely,” Armin agrees. "I saw something about him in the paper. The Americans launched an investigation into his disappearance." 

I sigh. "Do I have to clean up everything myself? What happened to the crew we sent over to cover up? I'll have to take care of it later." Mentally, I add the task to my already mountainous stack of urgent work. I wave them away. “I’m busy, both of you. You’re excused.” 

They file out, and my attention turns to the mountain of paperwork spread out before me. I need more tea to handle this. Shit. You would think that being a crime lord is glamorous, but that’s Hollywood talking. I have paperwork, like some fucking desk job. There’s a lot to worry about. Including the Jäger brat. 

And just like that, my attention jumps from a delayed cocaine shipment in Lyon to a particular green-eyed brat. I hope he’s doing alright. It’s been a rough couple of days, and it won’t get better. 

_He has to hate me._

The thought startles me, and I immediately try to shove it out of my head. Why do I give a damn about his opinion of me? I shouldn’t but I do. First bringing the dog over, and now this. I shouldn’t be reassuring him, or giving up valuable assets, or thinking about him now, when I have enough work to keep me up until four in the morning. I shake my head, trying to rattle the traitorous thoughts. They hold fast. 

I’m being irrational. I need to step back and stop overthinking things. He’s a kid, and he won’t be here very long. It doesn’t matter what I think of him. He might even turn out to be my enemy one day, if he inherits the Jäger family. 

With great difficulty, I pull myself away from Eren and turn my eyes back to the report in front of me. We can’t have any late deliveries, especially not on our most popular products. Who’s behind this mishap?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isabel and Eren never lived at the same points, and Isabel isn't strictly cannon, but I think that they're similar. I'm excited to have a chance to write about them meeting and, essentially, living together.


	5. Tentativity

I slam into the ground for the millionth time, gasping as the air is crushed out of my lungs. For a minute, all I can do is cradle my stomach and suck in some delicious oxygen. The mat spread over the gym floor is supposed to soften my falls. Right now, it’s doing a fantastic job of softening absolutely nothing. 

Jean slow claps from the far wall. I flash him a choice hand gesture and return my attention to the man standing across from me. “Too predictable,” Levi says. “Again.” 

I glower at him “You know, there’s a difference between trying to teach someone to fight and trying to kill them.” 

“I did teach you before we began. You just have to practice.” I roll my eyes and pull myself to my feet. Every muscle in my body shrieks in protest, and my ribs throb. “If you sass me, Jäger,” Levi warns, “I’ll make things harder for you. If someone wants to kill you for real, they won’t give you time to recover from a hit.” 

“Oh yeah,” I mutter to myself, “you’re being really gentle.” I quickly check myself over. Bruises, a few dents, a bunch of scrapes - but no broken bones. Yet. After Jean and I emerged from the kitchen, Levi materialized and told me to get changed for training. We’ve been here for at least an hour and a half, and Levi doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. “What are you waiting for, kid?” He taunts me. “I said again, didn’t I? I thought you wanted to hit me.” 

I leap forward, but Levi dodges easily. He’s fast, and very precise. It’s a painful combination to fight against. One moment I’m rushing towards him, and the next, I’m reeling from a blow to the head. Levi isn’t rough enough to cause any real damage, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hurt. “Remember,” He advises, “when you strike with one hand, bring the other one up to the side of your head. Otherwise, you’ll get a blow like that.” 

I haul myself up. I study him, planning my next move. Levi shifts into a defensive stance, turning his side to me and becoming a smaller target. He never stops moving, shifting from foot to foot. “Bring your arms up,” He instructs me. “Protect your chest.” 

I do as he says, but the few seconds of distraction are enough for him to knock my legs out from under me. I hit the ground with an agonizing thud. Not missing a beat, I scramble up to face him. His eyes glint with approval. “Good recovery. Next time, don’t circle me like a scavenger.” 

I grit my teeth and clamber to my feet. This time, Levi’s the one who strikes first. I raise a hand to block, His fist moves past me in a blur, stopping centimeters from my face. “Faster.” 

In our next round, I manage to land a solid hit to the jaw - or I would have, if Levi didn’t block it. He retaliates with a swift jab to my ribs. I twist, but the blow still grazes my chest. I try to loop an arm around his neck, but he ducks and snatches for my waist. I shove him away. I narrowly avoid getting clipped and raise my forearm to block his next strike. “Good,” Levi approves. “Do that again.” 

I’ve been thinking since the meeting with Mr. Ackerman. Levi’s bad, but he's is worse, and the family head isn’t the one helping me now. Even monsters have tiers. Mr. Ackerman and Levi… whatever I think of them, they’re not the same caliber. 

I lose myself in the routine of strike, block, fall. Sweat pastes my shirt to my back, and a trickle runs into my eye. My focus narrows to incoming hands and knees. Every now and then, Levi offers little bits of wisdom. 

“Don’t stand still when you strike, move your body into it. Twist with the blow.” 

“Don’t keep your feet so close together. A wider stance is more supportive.” 

“Concentrate less on form and more on the power and speed behind your blows.” 

“...He says, as he concentrates on my form,” I mutter. Levi catches my words. “If you have enough air to speak, you have enough air to fight harder.” 

The lesson is brutal, but I like it. Every time I land or block a blow, I get a new burst of satisfaction. I stop thinking about where I am and what I’ve seen, who I’m with, what that means. The fight becomes my world. 

Levi seems to enjoy it too. Even though we’re fighting, he’s relaxed. The expression on his face is concentrated, but not guarded. Every movement is fluid and graceful, honed from years of practice. His tank top displays the sleek muscle that his suit hid earlier. 

Finally, Levi falls out of his fighting stance. “I think that’s enough for the day,” He decides. I groan and inspect my battered knuckles. 

“Not bad, for your first time,” Levi concedes. “Although…” His eyes flicker towards Jean. “For your first few sessions, we’ll practice together. Eventually, I want you to work on your own. Kirstein, you can be his opponent. It’s not a perfect match, but you’re closer to Eren’s level than I am.” 

Jean and I lock eyes. He bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Gladly, Sir.” 

“That seems perfect,” I agree. 

Levi looks between us. “Good. That’s how it’ll go, then. Eren, I want you for training tomorrow evening, too.” 

“Back here?” I ask. 

Levi shakes his head. “We’ll be elsewhere. Hand-to-hand isn’t the most helpful training you can have, but I figured it’s where we should start.” He sidesteps my questioning gaze. “you must be starving. Go have lunch. Unless you’ve already spoiled your appetite, in which case you can skip that and go clean up. Isabel will be home soon, and if you’re still willing to walk the dog with her, I think she’d love that.” 

I smile at the thought. “Of course I still want to.” 

“Then there’s nothing to say, is there?” He throws a towel around his neck. 

“No, Sir.” He doesn’t make any move to join us. “Are going to stay here?” 

“I have to get a workout in, kid. You’re not much of an opponent.” He nods behind me. “I have to really fight somebody." 

I didn’t hear her come in, but a woman stands inside the gym doors. Short black hair frames grey eyes and a pale pink mouth. A red scarf winds around her throat. 

“Eren,” Levi says, “this is my cousin Mikasa.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” She says formally. Mikasa tilts her head to one side, lookin gme up and down. "You're Carla's son?" 

"Yeah." I bristle. "Why." 

Mikasa shrugs. She turns to Levi. “Annie wasn’t able to make our rendezvous, so I hope you’re prepared for a tougher fight than usual.” 

Jean and I hurry out of the gym. The guard falls into step behind me. “So,” I ask as we approach my room, “if you’re my guard, do you have to be with me all the time?” 

Jean rolls his eyes. “No, I just accompany you from nine to five. Of course I’m with you all the time.” 

“Not all the time,” I say doubtfully. “What about like when I’m asleep? I don’t want you to watch me sleep.” 

“Yeah, neither do I. I’m also not going to shower with you, so I hope you didn’t have that in mind. We’re not going there.” 

“Why would I want to shower with you if I don’t want you to watch me sleep? That doesn’t make any sense, genius.” 

Trost waits on the other side of my door. “Hey, boy.” I coo. “Did someone let you back in? That was nice of them.” Trost wags his tail in agreement. He inspects Jean with a brief sniff before shoving his nose into the ashbrown’s palm. Jean jumps. 

I leave them in my room while I take a quick shower. When I come out, Jean stands cross-legged against the door. Trost leans on his calf. The man shoots me a smug look once I return. “Your dog has good taste.” 

“What, because he likes you?” I snort. “Trost likes everybody. Except for Levi.” I amend. My gaze falls to the opened newspaper before him. Whoever brought Trost up must have also carried the paper to my room. 

The front page almost stops my heart. The words AMERICAN STUDENT VANISHES – CRIMINAL TIES SUSPECTED leaps out at me. Jean’s eyes follow mine. “Oh. That. Did you know?” 

I race over the article. _On Monday night, Sixteen-year-old Eren Jäger disappeared from his home in the small town of Shiganshina, IN. The boy reportedly took the bus home, but later that evening, neighbors reported shouting and gunfire coming from the Jäger residence. When police reached the scene, both the boy and his mother, thirty-two year old Carla Jäger, were nowhere to be found. Authorities found signs of a struggle outside the house, including a bloodstain of potentially fatal size. The blood type has yet to be determined. Both Eren and Carla were declared missing the following day, and following leads that suggest an abduction, authorities have issued a formal AMBER alert for the teen. Neighbors report seeing several large, black vehicles at the house, and after investigating the case further, Shiganshina police have suggested that the disappearance may be related to Carla’s ties to German organized crime. While Mr. and Ms. Jägers’ peers say that they never saw evidence of any such ties, this remains a plausible theory. This idea is further supported by the fact that the FBI became formally involved earlier today, something that normally only occurs in cases tied to terrorism, counterintelligence, or, among other things, organized crime. When asked to comment on this new development, the head FBI official involved declined, stating that the case is very sensitive and still developing. This dramatic escalation has catapulted the new case into the national spotlight…_ blah, blah, blah… _Involvement of organized crime could potentially lead to a long-awaited crackdown on…_ yada, yada… _At this time, police are asking for any and all witnesses to come forwards. We will keep you updated as this case continues to develop._

I stagger away from the table. “They didn’t find Mom’s body.” 

“What?” Jean asks. 

I didn’t realize I spoke aloud. “Nothing.” I fold the paper over my printed face and stuff the news in the trash. “Forget it.” Jean looks at me doubtfully, but he doesn’t say anything else. 

Mom's body is missing. Levi said it would be taken care of, but I assumed - well, I'm not sure what I assumed. I need to ask him. 

I briefly scrub my hair with a towel before giving up on it completely, and we hurry downstairs for an informal lunch. Jean and I have the dining room for ourselves. I guess the Ackermans don’t eat lunch together – but I’m not surprised. Between work and school, they probably don’t have the time. We each scarf down a sandwich before wandering onto the grounds. 

“They don’t get as much credit as they should,” I follow Jean’s pointing hand to the guards along the far wall. “A lot of people think, ‘oh, he’s just some guard.’ But the fact that he’s a guard at all is impressive.” He shoves his hand into his pockets. Guards have to be trusted. If a guard turns on you, he can get you killed and a big chunk of the Family wiped out. And don’t even get me started on personal guards.” His eyes blaze. “We don’t get enough respect. If someone lets you watch their back, they trust you. A lot. More than almost anyone, except maybe their partner or their mom. Having someone with you all the time, even when you’re at your most vulnerable, shows a lot of trust and power. And not just because they trust you not to hurt them, either. They also trust you to keep anyone else from hurting them. That’s a big job.” 

“I don’t know how you can take your help for granted,” I admit. “First of all, you should be grateful that they help you. Even if you pay them, they chose to be paid by you, specifically. You should be glad they’re there to help. Beyond that, I think that unassuming people can pick up a lot if they know how to. Servants can learn a lot.” 

Jean looks at me strangely. “Then you’re a better person than the head." 

“You mean Mr. Ackerman?” 

Jean laughs. “Yeah. He’s not the ruler of anything, much less the Family.” He spits in the grass. “He’s a disgrace. First of all, he cares about -,” His eyes widen, and he chokes the words back. “Well, he wastes his time with petty things that don’t matter to anyone else. All people want is for him to be good at his job, but he’s concerned with image and prestige, and then he lets the other Families get under his skin. They say he’s an upstart and an interloper, and he gets mad as hell over it. Of course, that means they win, you know? They can mess with him and get a reaction.” Jean shakes his head in disgust. “You don’t let people fuck with your head. That’s the first thing everyone in this business should learn. Guess he missed that lesson.” 

“Anyways, he’s horrible to the staff. Treats them like crap when he gets mad, and takes his anger out on the people who deserve it the least.” I saw that firsthand with Levi. Despite the warm breeze, a shiver creeps up my spine. 

"I'm going to kill Mr. Ackerman." I say to nobody in particular. Jean looks at me in alarm. 

"Which one?" 

"The head." Jean relaxes slightly, but his expression stays tense. 

"That's a dangerous thing for you to say." I shrug 

"It’s true. I'm going to do it. He killed Mom. Everything that happened that night I got taken away -," I've repressed the memories. Shoved them down in the dark, and I haven't looked at them since. When my mouth opens, so do the floodgates. For a moment, all I can think about is fear, and shock, and a bloody hand in mine. "It's Boss Ackerman's fault. And he's going to pay." The voice in the back of my head is a constant presence, demanding justice. Revenge. I can barely stand living in the same house as that monster, even if he is locked away in his forbidden wing. Hell, I can't stand breathing the same air as him. I don't want to be on the same planet, in the same universe, as that Ackerman filth. Of course, I don’t want to be near anybody in this Family, but he’s by far the worst. The first person who has to go. 

Jean looks at me thoughtfully. "You're not the only person who thinks that. Would you rather have Mr. Ackerman be the boss?” 

“I’d rather there not be a boss,” I sigh. “This whole place is wrong, and so is everyone in it.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Jean mutters. 

“You’re all wrong,” I say. “It’s a fact.” 

“Well yeah, but there are different reasons behind facts, okay?” 

A glossy car pulls up to the front gates, and a lithe figure hops out and begins streaking towards the mansion. As they approach, their red pigtails come into focus. “Isabel!” I raise a hand in greeting. A grin splits my face. 

Isabel sprints past both of us without a second glance. “Hey!” I call. “Isabel!” No answer. “Izzy, are you okay?” She whirls around. Her cheeks are flushed an angry crimson, and she’s breathing hard. The green eyes that glowed this morning, bright and excited, now pulse with rage. 

“Don’t touch me.” I jerk away. 

“Izzy, what -,” But she’s gone again, sprinting over the top of the hill. He backpack’s open, I notice, and papers scatter over the grass. I snatch them up and race after her. Jean’s hot on my heels. The redhead blasts through the hall. “Isabel!” I shout again. She doesn’t respond. Instead, she turns to glance over her shoulder. A door along the hall swings open, and a pair exists the gym. Isabel smashes into her brother’s chest. 

Levi reaches out to steady her. “Hey, slow down, will you?” When he catches sight of her face, irritation crumble into concern. “What’s wrong?” 

Isabel brushes his hand off of her shoulder and backs away. “Please don’t.” Mikasa melts against the wall and wisely averts her eyes. Jean does the same, but out of a different kind of respect – this isn’t a quarrel guard are supposed to be privy too, even trusted ones. 

“I’m fine,” Isabel takes a deep breath and brushes her bangs out of her eyes. “I’m alright.” 

“Alright my ass,” Levi snaps. “What was that just about? You ran down the fucking hall like you’ve got clowns on your tail.” 

Isabel shakes her head adamantly. “No, I’m fine.” Her throat contracts. “Why are you all here? Don’t worry about me.” She hikes her bag over her shoulder and pushes past Levi. The raven stares after her. 

Levi catches me watching him. “What is it?” 

“She forgot her papers,” I blurt. Levi blinks slowly, and I curse myself. Nice move, Eren. “Isabel.” I hold up the now slightly crumpled worksheets. “She dropped them outside.” Okay, Eren, let’s stop. 

“And she should get them back,” 

“Yeah.” My cheeks burn. 

“Right,” He sighs. “Take them to her, then.” 

I race after Isabel down the halls, searching for any sign of the girl. It’s not hard to find Isabel’s room - which is NOT in the west wing, so Jean is still wrong about the whole family having rooms there. Isabel painted her door with her name, and a mural of a sky complete with soft white birds and a huge, pale sun. I knock once. 

“Who is it?” the voice on the other end, unmistakably Isabel, is clogged. “Big Brother, I don’t want to talk to you. I can’t believe you.” 

“It’s Eren.” I call. “Can I come in?” Silence falls. “Why should I let you in?” Isabel demands. “Big Brother sent you, didn’t he?” 

“Yeah,” I admit. “But I also have some of your homework. At least, I think it’s your homework. I don’t read French.” 

“Screw my homework,” Isabel replies sullenly. 

“I feel you. But…” I smile against the door. “I also have a dog.” 

Isabel pauses. “Go on.” 

“I have to take Trost for a walk. Do you want to come? I don’t know anywhere good to take him, either, and we can go into town if you know a good café.” 

The lock turns, and Isabel peeks through the door. The skin around her eyes is swollen and blotchy, but her tone doesn’t show that she’s been crying when she says, “Do I have to tell you anything if I come?” 

“No. I’d like you too, but you don’t have to.” I raise three fingers in salute. “Scout’s honor.” 

When Isabel and I emerge, Levi is long gone. Jean snaps to attention when we approach, and when we tell him where we’re going, he says, “I’ll come with you.” 

“What, you don’t have any friends other than me?” I taunt him. “For someone who’s so dismissive of kids, you sure spend a lot of time around them.” 

Jean snorts. “Oh, please. Who says all my friends are from work? That would be lame. Of course I’m more social than that. I’ll have you know, Jäger I have to go into town myself. I’ve got a date.” 

“To visit your mother? How sweet. Did she knit you some new socks?” 

“No, that’s what I do on Sundays. I have to meet my boyfriend.” 

“Really? Good for you.” He glares at me. “No, I’m serious, that’s nice.” 

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to stick him in any of your stupid jokes, okay?” 

Isabel shows me a nice forest path, and Trost gets let off the leash. He romps around the foliage, and Isabel and I take turns throwing him sticks. We don’t say much but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. She only opens up when we head into town and stop at a café for a quick drink. Isabel, of course, has zero trouble telling the server exactly what she wants. I have to use determined pointing. We spend a little time talking about mundane stuff, but eventually, Isabel sets down her teacup. “I’m sorry.” She tells me. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“What, back when you got home?” I put down my own cup. “You’re fine. You were upset. Of course you weren’t the most rational person in the world. I can relate.” 

Isabel laughs. “Yeah, I bet.” She picks at the painted saucer. “You probably want to know what that was all about.” 

“I do,” I admit, “but like I said, you shouldn’t feel like you have to tell me.” Isabel’s smile becomes lopsided. 

“Which is why you came to find me.” 

I raise one eyebrow. “Maybe I just wanted to visit you.” 

Isabel laughs. “Uh-huh.’ She swallows and glances down at her hands. “I’m not oblivious.” She says quickly. “I think people believe that just because I’m a kid, I don’t know what the Family does.” She raises her head, sets her jaw, and looks me straight in the eye. “I think that’s stupid. How can I live in this house and not know where money for the bills comes from? It’s true I don’t know all the details, but I’m not ignorant. It’s really hard for me to even not know, actually.” She swallows. “I don’t get treated like everyone else, and I know that’s because of my connections to the Family.” She pets Trost’s ears. “And that means I get treated pretty weirdly at school.” 

“I don’t want to be treated differently, and get a tutor at home. That would be horrible. I’m just not sure my school is much better, you know? Just because my last name isn’t Ackerman doesn’t mean that people don’t know I’m connected to the family. They aren’t as stupid as I say they are. They notice that the teachers are really careful around me. whenever we have parent-teacher meetings, bro sends someone to be there for him since he can't. I'm not mad at him for it, but when you have a different man coming every time, people start to put two and two together.” 

“Do they demonize you?” I frown at the thought. “If they are -,” 

“No!” Isabel’s eyes widen. “Well, some of the kids do. But some of them still like me. The Family does a lot of community outreach, charity partnerships, that sort of work. Kids at school know that, and they’re grateful. Mostly, people are just afraid of me. Even the students that like me treat me differently. It gets worse after something shows up in the news. Even if the Ackermans aren’t mentioned, people know they’re involved. The only time you need hard evidence for an accusation is when you’re the authorities. After the doctor and the police officer, I was basically a pariah.” 

Understanding washes over me. Isabel continues, “The way I get treated isn’t actually that unusual, so normally I wouldn’t care. Today I was just so fed up with Big Brother that it made everything worse.” Her eyes burn. “To make things clear, I don’t ever cry when I’m sad. I just cry when I’m frustrated. This morning, he didn’t tell me what was in the newspaper, and I know he wouldn’t. I don’t want him to hide things from me. When I saw the article before school today I just snapped.” 

“Talk to him about it,” I suggest. “He knows you’re upset, and he won’t brush you off.” Whatever I think about Levi, he does care about his younger sister. 

“No, but he will,” Isabel insists. “It’s not like he doesn’t listen to me, but I don’t think he understands that what Levi thinks is good for Isabel and what Isabel knows is good for Isabel are two different things sometimes.” She cracks a smile. “At least Farlan is on my side. I don’t think I could take it if they both treated me like I was breakable.” 

“You’re not breakable,” I say, surprised. “I don’t think either of them could think that. They’re your brothers, right? They should know you better than anyone. They know you’re a tough cookie, but they still want to keep you safe.” 

Isabel fiddled with Trost’s dog tags. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” Abruptly, she changes the subject. "This probably isn't how you imagined your first visit to a French cafe." 

"No," I admit with a rueful smile. "I never really thought about going to France at all. Mom wanted to keep me far away from Europe." 

"That wouldn't have worked." Isabel shakes her head. "Too protective." 

I laugh softly, even as my chest clenches. "Are you speaking from experience?" 

"Yep." She leans back in her chair. "It's well-meaning, but it always backfired." 

I stare out over the fluttering awnings and strolling pedestrians. "I never resented Mom for being protective. She wanted me to be afraid of the Families because they would hurt us. And she turned out to be right." 

"You don't seem terribly afraid of me," Isabel points out quietly. 

I shake my head. "You're different. You don't.. you're not here because you want to be, you just got caught up in the Family. You were adopted, right?" 

"Unofficially," Isabel confirms. 

"Then it's not your fault that you're here." 

Isabel frowns. She threads her fingers through Trost's fur. "That reasoning works with other people, too. I'm just one of the more clear-cut ones." She fixes me with fierce green eyes. "There are other people who are here because they don't want to be, even if they don't say so. And the Family does good things, too. The world isn't black and white. Your perspective is the only thing that determines what colors you see, okay?" 

When Jean comes to pick us up, he has a genuine smile. “Good time?” I tease as I leash Trost. He snorts. 

“I don’t know about you, Jäger, but I don’t kiss and tell.” 

I wiggle my eyebrows. “Definitely a good date, then.” Isabel giggles. 

The rest of the afternoon and the evening are both uneventful, and after the delicious dinner Sasha promised – I have to thank her next time I see here – where Jean, the smug bastard, did eat at the main table, the family dissipates into their own corners of the mansion. 

Jean takes up his post outside my door, per request, and I wash up before bed. Once the lights are off, Trost’s gentle snores fill the room. I toss and turn for what feels like ages, but I can’t find a comfortable position. 

A soft knock echoes through the room. With a sigh, I pull myself up and open the door. On the other side stands a solemn, suited Levi. “Eren,” He says before I can say anything, “Why was Isabel upset?” 

I hesitate. I don’t know if she wants me to tell Levi anything, but she knew that part of the reason I came to see her was because Levi asked. She’s his sister, and he’s worried about her. I quickly tell him what Isabel said. 

He lets out a rattling breath. “I thought it might be something like that. I want Isabel to have a chance at a semi-normal childhood, but that means she spends more time in the outside world than what’s easy for her.” 

“That’s not the problem,” I say lowly. “The problem is that you baby her.” 

Levi’s eyes flash. “I’m protecting her. She’s twelve years old, Eren, and she was adopted, yeah? So that she can have a better life than she would have otherwise. I don’t intend for her to be involved.” 

“You live in the same house,” I point out. “There’s only so much not being involved that she can do.” 

A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. “Ouais _(Yeah)_. But you shouldn’t stop swimming just because you’re going to drown.” 

“Just don’t hurt her.” Levi nods. 

“I never want to.” He shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “Thank you for talking to her, Eren.” 

“I was worried about her too,” I admit. 

“I know. You’re not a bad kid. I think she likes you.” I laugh a little. 

“Maybe. She’s sweet.” Levi softens. 

“She is.” He blinks and looks me over for the first time. “Jäger,” He says strangely, “are those dancing koalas on your boxers?” 

“Yes, they are.” My face burns. “I didn’t think anyone was going to see them, okay?” 

“And now they’re one more thing I’ll never be able to unsee.” He mutters. Levi shakes his head, still looking mildly horrified. “Go back to your room, Jäger.” 

“You’re laughing at me,” I realize. 

“Do I look like I’m laughing, you little shit?” 

“Not on the outside. On the inside.” He totally is. I can see amusement brimming in Levi’ eyes even as he refuses to look at me. Levi shakes his head, and he turns to walk down the hallway. 

“Jesus. Okay kid, goodnight.” 

Mom taught me to fear the Families, and to fear monsters, but it hasn't worked. It isn't working now. I'm not afraid of Levi. Comfortable, no. Not really. But he's not frightening. 

I don't believe that Mom did a bad job teaching me anything. I was scared of Levi, at first. I don't understand why - oh, yes, I think I do. 

I'm not sure he's what I was taught to fear. 

I rest my head against the door frame. "Goodnight, Levi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eren.


	6. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a particularly long chapter, especially considering the monsters I've packed previously, but important developments are in the works.

**Levi**

“It goes without saying that this is a problem,” I say. Kenny grunts in agreement. The Ackerman boss paces around me as I explain the results of Armin’s searches and the theory that Nile brought up. My uncle is preoccupied with my findings, and not really focused on me, but I’m tense. Prepared. I know he could strike at any moment. 

He’s an old man, but he’s a fast old man, and I want to turn my back on him so badly I think I’m going to scream. At least if he beats me it will be here, alone in the west wing, and not in front of a green-eyed brat who doesn’t know how to stay out of what he’s seeing. I’ll be spared that humiliation. 

“Can we kill Erwin Smith?” Kenny asks. 

“We can try. I thought I would send Mikasa after him.” “Do that. And you’re sure Nile Dok isn’t lying to us?” 

“No.” Narrow grey eyes snap to my face, and I squish a rising bout of nausea. “Our results are inconclusive.” 

“Then get more results.” Kenny’s gaze drifts back to the blade in his hand. I release a silent sigh of relief. “In the meantime…” He taps the blade against his palm. “I’m going to move up our trip to Germany.” 

I blanch. “That’s -,” He looks at me sharply, and my words die in my throat. I try again. “Sir, are you sure that’s wise?” 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Kenny raises an eyebrow. “Do you foresee some sort of problem, captain?” 

I do, but my uncle and I don’t agree on what we would consider a problem. For me, dropping a barely-trained, overly virtuous teen into a lion’s den is a fucking problem. For Kenny? Not if it doesn’t affect his bottom line. “No, Sir.” 

Kenny studies me for a second longer, but eventually, he shrugs. “Fine.” He presses the knife under his nails to remove some stray dirt. I resist the urge to cringe. _Filthy._

“Set up a meeting with Grisha.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Let’s see if we can have it in Switzerland. He’ll appreciate that.” Kenny glances in the mirror behind the back wall and frowns, running a hand over his emerging stubble. 

“What should I say to Eren Jäger about this?" I ask. Kenny raises an eyebrow. 

“Nothing, of course. It's not relevant just yet.” He eyes me suspiciously. “What do you think of the kid?” 

The question takes me off guard. I take a moment to answer. “He’s fine. Why?” 

I realize too late that I shouldn’t have asked the question. To my relief, Kenny lets it go. “I have t’a make sure my boy isn’t weak, don’t I? Don’t start feeling sorry for the kid.” 

“I'm not.” That’s not a lie. I don’t feel sorry for Eren at all. I’m pretty fucking worried about him, though. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Well, I hope not. I thought that you might still be hung up on what happened to Carla.” 

I grit my teeth. “You told me you wouldn’t kill her.” 

Swift as a snake, Kenny steps forwards, one open palm raised. I brace myself. He sees me flinch, and a satisfied smirk spreads over his face. “It’s done. Stop thinking about it.” 

He turns away, and I try to soothe my pounding heart. “Get out, Levi.” 

As if he needs to tell me. It’s an effort to keep my pace measured as I slip out the door and down the hall. It’s tempting to head back to my room, but I can’t do any more 

fucking paperwork, and I’m not sleeping anytime soon. My feet carry me further into the wing, and my hand rests on another door. 

“Maman?” 

**Eren**

“Mutti?” 

I race over the filmy landscape, stumbling over stones and potholes as I sprint down our street. Footsteps race behind me. Soft, cold breath chills the back of my neck. “Mom?” I call out, frightened. Where is she? “Mom!” 

She appears out of the fog. Her yellow dress swirls around her. At first she spreads her arms and welcomes me, but then her face twists in confusion. “What are you doing out here, Eren? You should be inside.” 

“Mom. You know I can’t be inside. I -” Figures begin to emerge out of mist. Shadows stride forwards to form a circle around the two of us. I press against Mom’s dress. “Who are they?” 

She doesn’t answer. One of the figures, in a long trench coat, steps forwards. “Get away!” I shout. He doesn’t react. “Didn’t you hear me?” I snarl. He remains unmoving. I lunge forwards. One moment I’m hurtling towards him, and the next, I fall forwards. Spinning around, I realize that I’ve slipped through him. The figure continues his walk towards Mom, and the rest of the shadows close in. The circle tightens. I scramble back to Mom. “Mom? What’s going on?” 

I glance towards her face. Her eyes are hard in a way I’ve never seen them before, and her skin gleams grey in the pale light. “Eren, sweetheart. You have to leave. Save yourself for me.” 

I grip her hand. “I won’t.” The moment the words leave my lips, her expression shifts. Fear overwhelms her face, and she shoves me away. I reach for her, and so does the figure in black. A gun flashes. Mom jerks back, and my scream rips through the air. 

Blood covers my hands, and fills my mouth. I choke, gagging on the heavy, metallic flavor, but it sticks to the back of my throat. My knees give out, and I collapse on the spongy earth. Shadows seethe and writhe around me. I try to look up, but red clouds my eyes. My vision blurs, and the dark figures merge with the stormy sky. A raindrop splatters against my forehead. I hope that the water will wash away the sticky, heavy fluid, but it doesn’t. Instead, the more rain that pours down, the hotter it is, the sticker. Red rain drenches me from head to toe. And Mom is nowhere to be found. 

I wake up shaking and soaked in sweat. For a moment, I lie in bed and try to remember where I am. I’m okay. I’m not dying. Nobody else is here with me, except for – I reach out to the dog bed to make sure – except for Trost. I almost sob with relief. A dream. It was all just a dream. 

I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I’ve never had a nightmare like that before, and I can still taste the blood in my mouth. I push aside the covers and tiptoe to the bathroom, where I chug a glass of water and wash my face. When I emerge, I shed my now-sticky shirt for a clean one. 

I glance at the clock. It’s just past four in the morning. For a minute, I debate going back to sleep. Nah, who am I kidding? I’m not going to relax enough for sleep. Not after that. My chest feels tight. 

I must be the only person awake right now. A shiver runs through me. It’s not hard to imagine the shadows from my dream creeping back into my room and snaking their hands over my neck while those dead, empty eyes stare down at me. Mom, in her bloodstained yellow dress, leans over down to kiss me goodnight with cold, grey lips. I protest, but she doesn’t care that I’m too old for this kind of mushy stuff. 

I stand in the room, eying the dark corners nervously. The clock on the far wall ticks too loudly, and the rhythm sets me on edge. My head pounds. I grind my teeth. Carefully, I open the door and peer into the hallway. The guard outside isn’t Jean – he must have finished his shift – and he looks at me curiously. Thankfully, he doesn’t follow when I leave my room. I hesitantly pad to the door across the hall and knock once. “Levi?” I call as loud as I dare. No answer. I hover for a moment, unsure. He must be asleep. 

I wander down the hallway. The manor is alien in the gloom, and I hope I don’t get lost. Or wander into the wrong room. Thankfully, nothing goes wrong, and I make it down the grand staircase without breaking my neck. Guards watch me warily, but nobody speaks, and the silence presses in from all angles. 

Is that… thumping? Muffled sounds leak out of the gym doors. A dim light trickles across the floor. Slowly, I open the door. 

My chest seizes. Levi stands in the center of the gym, beating the shit out of a punching bag. Sweat gleams on his bare chest. Dark hair falls into his eyes. His expression is completely unguarded, and the pure, uncensored anger on his face makes me want to take a step back. He’s so immersed in his work that he doesn’t notice me. I cough pointedly. 

Levi turns. His eyes widen slightly when he sees me standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. “You should be asleep by now.” 

“So should you,” I shoot back. He’s just standing there. “Don’t you need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow? I thought you have gambling operations to run out of orphanages.” The words come out sounding hollow, even to me. 

Levi snorts. “Sure. I also have plans to use kittens to smuggle cocaine.” He studies my face intently. “Are you all right, brat?” 

“Not really.” I lean against the wall. “Levi, what did you do with my mom’s body?” 

He takes a deep breath. “Ah. I sent it to the funeral parlor. Hoh?” My expression must betray my surprise. “Weren’t expecting that, were you?” 

“I don’t know what I expected,” I admit. “She couldn’t -,” A lump blocks my throat. “She didn’t get a funeral, did she?” 

Levi just shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Eren. You can visit her grave soon, if you want to. It’s too dangerous right now.” 

I blink back tears. “She deserved so much better than she got.” 

“Trust me, I fucking know.” I shoot him a look. 

“How?” I ask, dubious. 

“She’s not the first person to try and run away from the Families.” 

I sigh and lean my head back against the wall. “I don’t blame you for what happened.” 

“Took you fucking long enough,” He scowls at the floor, but some of the tension leaves his shoulders. 

“Why are you down here?” I ask Levi. 

“There are some people,” He says, “That I would love to punch in the face. You?” 

“Nightmares.” I say quietly. Levi hums. 

“They suck ass.” I look at him in surprise. 

“Really? You have them too?” He scowls at me. Duh. “About what?” 

Levi runs a hand through his hair. “People like me don’t get to forget anything they’ve done, so we have to relive it over and over again. Every time we close our eyes.” 

I shudder. “Serves you right.” I mean for the words to come out with more venom than they do, but maybe I’m just tired. 

“Yeah,” Levi answers. “I know.” 

I swallow. “Do they ever get better?” 

He shakes his head. “The moment they get better is the moment you start to forget, and that’s when you become a real monster.” He closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. “It’s fine. It sucks, but that’s how it has to be.” 

It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. I feel a pang of sympathy. Quickly, I shove it aside. Remember, Eren, this is Levi Ackerman we’re talking about. He doesn’t get your sympathy. My throat is dry. “You’re awfully talkative tonight.” 

Levi chuckles. “Sorry, brat. I’m tired. It takes a toll.” 

Clearly. “Levi, what has Jean told you?” 

Levi gazes at me, completely blank. “Sorry?” 

A smile quirks at the corner of my mouth. “Are you using Jean to keep tabs on me?” 

Levi blinks. He’s considering denying it. Eventually he says, “To some extent, yes. He doesn’t report everything you say. I just told him to tell me anything that could be a security risk.” 

“Don’t spy on me.” 

His eyes gleam in the dim light. “No can do. We have to make sure you don’t try to pull any shit. Just hold out for a little longer, okay? Then you can get away from us.” Levi drums his fingers against the floor. “How did you know?” 

I laugh. “It seemed like something you would do. Or at least like something that was probable.” 

Levi’s expression becomes troubled. “Fuck, kid, you’re settling in too well. It hasn’t been a week, and you’re already starting to think like the rest of us.” 

My blood chills, and I realize that he’s right. I’m looking for manipulation and mistrust. It’s exactly what a family member would do. The revelation rattles me. I think back to the other things I’ve said tonight, but nothing else seems to be as wrong. I waver. Maybe I just can’t tell. 

For now, I push the topic aside. “Please don’t call me kid.” 

“Why?” Levi asks amiably. “Because Kirstein uses it?” 

“He does, but that’s not why. I’m not much of a child, am I? I thought you said I won’t get coddled.” 

Levi chuckles."That's true, I did.” A crooked smile creeps up one side of his jaw. “Eren.” 

I break away from his gaze. Big mistake. My stomach twists uncomfortably. I didn’t notice it earlier, but a lattice of silvery tissue crisscrosses Levi’s torso and shoulders. Scars. Some are thin and wiry, others jagged and irregular. A few of them look like burns. Quickly, I avert my eyes. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“No.” I flush furiously. “Nothing.” This is wrong. I shouldn’t see Levi like this. I shouldn’t be talking to him so easily. This is such… such an _intimate_ moment. I don’t like the word, but I don’t know what else to call it. I’m sitting across from a crime lord in the middle of the night, casually talking about nightmares and spying and, hell what I want him to call me. I don’t know where to look, or what to say, and suddenly, I feel like maybe I’m siting wrong. 

I bolt to my feet. “I have to go,” I say abruptly. “Before it gets too late to go back to sleep.” I don't gauge Levi's expression before I practically sprint out of the room, up the stairs, and through the house until I’m safely back in bed with the door locked behind me. I lean against the wood, panting. Trost stirs in his bed. With a soft whine, the rotweiller raises his head and eyes me questioningly. 

“Go back to bed, Trost.” I rub his head. He looks up at me doubtfully with wide, soulful brown eyes. “Nothing happened. I just had a really bad dream.”


	7. Altruism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren, you sweet, sweet dumbass.
> 
> *Edit* - In retrospect, I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and I'm not super happy with how I wrote everything out, but it's staying around because it says a lot that needs to be said and I don't know how better to address those things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think is worse: Gouging out your own eyeballs with a dull fork, or scooping them out with a heated melon spoon?
> 
> i'm not a psychopath i promise

I yawn into my coffee. “Late night?” Jean asks me. I nod. After last night’s escapades, I only got a few more hours of sleep. I peek at Levi over the rim of my mug. The Ackerman is engrossed in the newspaper. Neither of us have acknowledged last night’s conversation. 

I mean, there isn’t really anything to acknowledge, but I thought maybe he’d say something. 

“See, that’s what happens when you stay up past your bedtime.” Jean says condescendingly. I scowl at him. 

“You ruined it.” He looks up from his own drink. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I thought you were going to be okay today, and then you ruined it.” I take another gulp of sweet, sweet caffeine. “I don’t have a bedtime in the first place, though, so there.” 

Farlan laughs. “You two are both horrible.” He slathers more jam onto his bread. “Levi, I think these two are a match made in hell.” 

Levi grunts without looking up from the news. “They’ll be good for each other.” 

“I bet nobody else wanted to work with you,” I grumble to Jean. “They had to put you with someone who didn’t know any better.” It’s bad enough that I have to sit by him. Levi refused to let us sit on opposite sides of the table, citing a security risk. If someone tried to knife me over breakfast, Jean could get to me much faster is he didn’t have to travel over the tablecloth. Personally, I’m willing to take the risk. 

Jean mutters something in French I don’t catch. Isabel stirs her cereal. “Today’s Friday,” She announces. 

“Oh, rub it in, will you,” Farlan gripes. “I have to go back to class tomorrow.” He winces. “My flight back is this afternoon. With my luck, I’m going to get seated next to a baby.” 

I laugh. “Talk about a first world problem” Farlan grins sheepishly. 

“Mr. Ackerman?” Mina hovers by the doors to the dining room. In heavily accented English, she says, “Doctor Hange is here to see you.” 

“Tell her to come back later.” 

“Well Sir, I recall that you told me to say as much if she came looking for you. I’m afraid she won’t go.” 

Never in my life have I seen such a potent blend of horror and panic as the one that crosses Levi’s face. He springs upright, almost spilling his tea in the process, and turns towards the back wall. The back wall of the dining room isn’t so much a wall as a pair of French doors, and he’s going to make a run for the garden beyond them. He doesn’t move fast enough. The doors to the dining room explode. “Rivaille!” A figure catapults herself across the room, tackling Levi before he can make his escape. The raven goes down hard. 

“Vivi, I can’t believe you. You haven’t talked to me for a week.” 

“Because I’ve been busy.” Levi groans and shoves the woman off of him. “I actually work, you know.” 

The woman’s eyes narrow behind her glasses. “Oh? Are you suggesting that I don’t work? I’ll remember that next time you want me to save one of your men’s lives.” She jabs Levi in the ribs. “Work isn’t an excuse for not visiting your best friend!” 

Levi winces and smooths out his suit. “You got fucking dust all over me, you lunatic.” 

Hange shrieks with laughter. “Sorry! It’s your fault for running in the first place, you know.” She waggles a finger at him. “I thought we’d already had this conversation, Rivaille. You can’t escape me.” The woman’s smile widens when she sees me. “Oh, hello. Who are you?” she bounces over to my chair. “Oh, Vivi, he’s so cute!” 

I duck away from the woman’s grasping hands and send Jean a pleading look. “Now would be a good time to do your job,” I mutter. The asshole just smirks and stuffs another pastry into his face. 

“Hange,” Levi warns. “He’s important. Don’t do anything.” 

“Oh, what, like I’m going to hurt him?” The brunette waves away his concern. “Psh. He’s so cute, he’s like a little tangerine.” My face flares, and Jean chokes on his food. Ha. Serves him right. 

“Hange,” Levi says stiffly, “That’s Eren Jäger.” Hange’s eyes widen. 

“Awww, really? He’s so sweet! Hello, Eren.” The woman holds out her hand. “I’m Doctor Hange Zoe. I’m sure you’ve heard about me.” 

I shake her hand. I remember Levi mentioning Hange during my first night with the Family. “The only thing I’ve heard is that you’re crazy. And, um, that there’s a cat involved?” 

Hange cackles. “You haven’t seen Corporal yet? Levi! What did you do to him?” 

“I didn’t do anything to that little beast! He likes to sleep in my bathtub all day, that’s all.” 

“Uh-huh,” Hange rolls her eyes. “I know you, Levi Ackerman. Don’t try to make any excuses.” She winks at me. “I hope you guys didn’t forget what today is.” 

“Of course not.” Levi folds his paper. “I was hoping you were the one who forgot.” Hange just laughs. 

“Well, I’m hoping you’re ready for some hard work. There are a lot of people counting on us, Vivi.” 

“Tell me something new.” Levi says. “Eren, go get dressed. You and Kirstein are coming with the team for work today.” Seeing my expression, he adds, “Not that kind of work.” 

I get up from the table and head back to my room, Jean and Trost. “What’s he talking about?” I ask Jean. The guard shakes his head. 

“You’re asking me? Dumbass. Why would I know what he has planned?” 

Levi never said I had to look presentable for work today, so I opt for plain jeans and a t-shirt. When Jean and I return downstairs, he eyes me up and down. I raise an eyebrow. “Does His Highness find my appearance acceptable today?” 

“His Highness doesn’t want to dig out his eyes with a dull fork.” Levi replies. “It’s a start.” He’s also less formal than usual. Instead of his normal suit and tie, Levi has his own jeans and a crisp linen shirt. I didn’t know he owned jeans. I assumed that they were his equivalent of sweatpants. And god forbid that Levi Ackerman would ever wear sweatpants. 

Jean, Levi, Hange and I pile into the car waiting outside. “You’re a doctor?” I ask Hange. She nods. 

“Family doctor,” She specifies. “I take care of injuries that are difficult to explain, if you know what I mean.” She smiles softly. “And, if necessary, I can pull some strings to get Family members admitted to the hospital.” 

I don’t like the idea of gangsters being kept alongside normal people, but I guess sometimes it’s inevitable. “Why do you work for the Family?” I ask. Levi turns his gaze fixedly on the window. “Don’t you have a problem with trying to help killers?” 

Instead of getting defensive, Hange smiles. “Do you know what the Hippocratic Oath is?” Without waiting for an answer, she continues, “It’s an oath doctors take before they begin practicing.” She lowers her voice. I lean in to hear her. “It’s a bit lengthy, but this is the most important part, as far as I’m concerned: 

I will respect the privacy of my patients” she recites, “for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.” 

“Do you understand what that means?” 

“I think so.” 

“It’s not my place to judge my patients or turn them over to the police. It’s my job to help people. Medicine is more to me than just a job, but I have to respect its boundaries. 

It’s not up to me to call a person bad, or good, or anything in between. No when they’re bleeding in front of me. The only thing that’s important is saving their life. Regardless of what they’ve done, they’re humans. I’m not their executioner.” 

“That’s so hypocritical,” I object. “Half of the people you help are going to go right back out and kill someone.” 

Hange’s eyes twinkle. “That’s true. Nevertheless, I have hope. If even one of the people I save goes out into the world and does some good, I’m satisfied.” 

We disembark in a dingy, dilapidated part of town. The shops and tall buildings of the city tower in the distance, and we stand at the mouth of a less-polished neighborhood. Paint peels off of signs. Rust creeps up buildings and street lamps. For familiar figures walk towards us. 

“Hey,” I start when Petra and the rest of the team approach. She nods stiffly to me, and I wince. “I’m sorry about what I said a few days ago, when we were at the doctor’s home.” Petra looks at me in surprise. 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah. I was too harsh. You tried to be kind, and I told you to fuck off.” Petra laughs. 

“Yes, you did. Very well, Eren. I am willing to accept your apology. I understand. It must be hard.” I frown. I don’t want to talk about the things that “must be hard”. Thankfully, before I can speak and screw up again, Levi pushes something into my hands. 

I dumbly look down at the package. “What’s this?” I ask. 

Levi raises one eyebrow. “You have eyes, don’t you?” I make a face, but peer inside. The bag is filled with tin cans. I lift one up to examine the label. “Canned food?” 

“We give money to groups and organizations, but it’s generally wiser to give people more basic necessities. Like food. Nobody turns it down, that’s for sure.” Levi shrugs. “And it’s always better to give directly than to entrust anything to a third party.” 

“Don’t you need a can opener for canned food?” 

“Not for these. You just twist the lid off.” 

The rest of the unit stocks up on cans of their own, and we follow the captain into the dark, rotting air between the buildings. Deep in the maze of graffiti and overflowing trash cans huddles a dark mass. As we get closer, I realize that the mound isn’t a single mound at all. It’s a group of tattered, grimy children with wide, dull eyes. 

I stop in my tracks. What are we doing here? Levi can’t be cruel enough to – 

-press a tin into grubby hands, stand up, and move onto the next child. The rest of the group follows suit. Jean back at me quizzically. “Are you alright?” Wordlessly, I nod and join them. 

The children don’t speak as we pass out the food. Occasionally, I catch a few words of French. My nerves buzz as I wonder if I might be put in a bad situation and not understand one of the children. The nerves fade as I realize that a) that’s a silly thing to worry about, and b) It really doesn’t matter. 

Every time I give out one can, I need two more. The children gather around us. They don’t press in on us, but they reach out with gaunt arms for the distributed parcels. None of them, I realize painfully, need to be shown how to open and eat the contents of the cans. They pull the lids off with ease. This procedure isn’t unfamiliar to them. 

I can’t get over how gaunt they are. Their skin sags around their cheekbones, and wiry arms display every tendon and ligament under the surface of the skin. “Why are they like this?” I murmur to Gunther. He looks at me in surprise. 

“What do you mean? They’re unlucky, victims, or some combinations of the two. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen beggars before.” 

I haven’t. Mom and I lived in a small town, not a big city. I’m not familiar with desperation and starvation. The experience rattles me. At the same time, I’m glad to help. Eager to, in fact. I’ll take whatever opportunity to aid I can get. Even if it’s here, with gangsters, and I’m not sure I understand why they’re doing this. 

I’m amazed that Levi is so willing to help. He stands in the middle of a shifting sea of bodies, with dirt pressing in from all sides, and he’s not so much as flinching. As I watch, he kneels down and hands out another ration. When he rises, he turns and looks me dead in the eye. I’m caught. I flush and return to work. 

We’re done all too soon. I trail after the crew as we move out of the dark and the damp. Levi’s team murmurs among themselves. We part ways with them. Once our drive back to HQ is underway, Levi speaks. 

“Eren. If I knew this was what it would take to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago.” Mike chuckles. Jean smirks. Levi, however, doesn’t look particularly amused. His expression is probing, and the look he sends me seems almost… worried? 

“I didn’t know Karanes had such a big homeless problem. Especially not with children. Why aren’t they in an orphanage?” I ask. 

“The orphanages are full.” Levi says. “My - well, the Family used to take some of them in, but not anymore.” 

“Your mother did,” I say. 

Levi tenses. “Yes. Who told you that?” 

I shake my head. Across from me, Jean keeps his gaze fixed pointedly on the scenery passing by the window. Some of my guard’s earlier words come back to me. When I was a kid, I used to play here. Ms. Ackerman does a lot of community outreach. Work with kids, stuff like that. 

Did Jean used to live like those children, wandering in gutters, surviving off of charity? 

“Karanes isn’t a poor city,” Levi continues. “It’s just not as well off as it used to be, and a lot of the social programs got cut. A few of the orphanages and soup kitchens burned down a few years back, and nobody was willing to rebuild them. Except for us.” He curls his lip. “But the money we donated disappeared in the government somewhere. Probably so the governor could wipe his ass with diamond toilet paper or someshit. Then the boss didn’t allow us to get involved, so the whole plan fell apart.” 

It’s a sad story, and I want to believe it. There’s only one problem. “Why do you care?” I ask quietly. “Why did you help those children?” 

Surprise, and then frustration, flits across Levi’s face. They disappear quickly, and a resigned look replaces them. Jean answers my question. “Gee Eren, I don’t know. It couldn’t possibly be because we’re not despicable people.” 

“Kirstein,” Levi says mildly. 

“Sorry, Sir.” 

I screw my eyes shut. What Jean says makes sense, but I don’t know what to believe anymore. Of course I want to think that they’d help people for the sake of it. Nevertheless, a little voice in the back of my head whispers _Ackermans._

“Do you give out that kind of aid a lot?” I ask. Levi grunts. 

“Fairly often, yes. I personally try to help weekly. We don’t always do exactly the same thing, but something along those lines. Not as much as we should, but we do what we can.” Levi’s throat contracts. “Some of those kids back there will end up working for us one day. If we let my uncle had his way, some of them would already be on his payroll.” 

My first instinct to call him out. Helping people survive, just so you can turn them into killers and corpses? That’s a particularly cruel hypocrisy. 

I don’t call Levi out. Once I think about it, I don’t think he’s being a hypocrite. I don’t think he’s being a monster. I definitely don’t believe that he only helped those kids to trick me, or anybody else. I think that Levi’s just doing what he can, because he wants to. Levi’s trying to do a good thing. 

I hope he realizes that a bad person doing good things is exactly what it sounds like. Good actions don’t make you a good person, do they? The question stops me in my tracks, but I can’t answer it right now. It’s just blocking my way, so I shove it aside. 

I open my eyes. Hange frowns at me from her seat. Mike types on a laptop he’s whipped out, probably from under his seat, and Jean leans back against the leather chair. Levi’s eyes wander, bored and listless, but I can tell that he’s tense. His jaw is rigid, and the way his gaze slides over us is too fast to be mindless. 

“Okay,” I whisper. I barely hear my own voice. “That’s fine.” 

**Levi**

“I thought you finished that shit.” Kenny comments. I stifle a scowl. He knows where I spent the morning, and who I was with. My uncle doesn’t care about the guards, or about Hange, but I know he’s not keen to let “the Jäger brat” get a breath of fresh air. 

“It’s important to contribute to the community in some way,” I murmur. Kenny snorts. 

“It’s a waste of time and money.” 

“If we don’t help somehow, the only emotions people will have for us are fear and hate,” I argue. “And the men we hire will only be in it for the paycheck. Gratefulness encourages loyalty.” It also encourages love, Maman would say, although neither Kenny nor I have much faith in love these days. 

Helping others is import to me the same way the peonies are important to Maman: she planted the flowers to make peace with what she thought she was responsible for. Giving back, even pointlessly, is a small act of redemption. 

Attempted redemption, anyways. 

“Maybe,” Kenny allows. “I think you could use the time to deal with our Erwin Smith problem.” 

“I sent Mikasa like you asked –“I start. 

Kenny waves the words away. “Yes, yes, let’s hope she’s as good as she says she is.” 

I grit my teeth. “Her work speaks for itself. Sir.” 

“People are different on paper, nephew.” 

That’s true. 

“Mr. Ackerman, Sir?” We turn to face the dark-haired guard standing in the doorway. “And Mr. Ackerman,” He adds respectfully. 

“Nikolas,” I greet him. 

“Yes?” Kenny’s face melts into bored indifference. “What do you want?” 

The guard lays a newspaper on the desk. He keeps his eyes fixed on the mahogany. “Today’s international newspaper, Sir. We’re on the front page.” 

I can almost see the frost forming on the windowpanes. Kenny swears and rips the paper off the desk. Stray pages scatter over the rug, but he pays them no mind. He takes one look at the headline before his expression twists into a feral snarl and he throws the paper down. “Merde,” _(Shit)._ “Fucking look at this, Levi. Your boy is causing trouble.” My heart skips a beat. 

The headline makes me sick. _In Search for Student, French Syndicate Suspected._ Eren’s face is plastered right below the words. My internal swearing almost completely drowns out my thoughts as I scan the article. _An anonymous tip has suggested that the Ackerman crime family, based in France, is at least partially responsible for the disappearance of Eren Jäger. While the murder of his mother, Carla, has not been tied to the group, it seems likely that whatever organization abducted the boy also…_

“They have no evidence,” I note, relieved. “Their argument is weak. Someone told them that we were involved, and they’re running wild with the notion. There’s no talk of them connecting with authorities.” 

Kenny taps me lightly on the cheek. I wince at the feel of his grimy, oily hands on my skin. “Well, maybe they’re not allowed to say they’re working with authorities. You’re missing the point, Levi. Somebody told them that they were involved, didn’t they? Catch the important things.” 

My stomach drops. “We’re a very specific group to ask about. Nobody is pointing their fingers at us by chance, especially when you consider Eren’s ties to the Jägers. If any Family is involved, they’d be the logical culprit.” 

“Indeed.” 

“Qui sait qu'il est ici?” _(Who knows that he’s here?)_ I ask. 

“À ce stade, tout le monde dans la maison.” _(At this point, everybody in the house.)_

Damn. I know some of the staff – Sasha, Jean, Armin, their subordinates – won’t talk. That still leaves too many servants with working mouths. I clench my fists in my pockets. “We have a traitor on the inside, don’t we?” Kenny nods. 

“I think we need to start vetting our staff,” Kenny decides. “We need to find out who’s loyal to the Family.” 

“The logistics will make that difficult,” I warn him. “We have a lot of people in the house, Sir. Even if we lock the manor down -,” 

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” He cuts me off. “That should be our first step. Nobody leaves the house until we determine how much of a threat they pose.” 

“People have families,” I point out. “And we’re not at war. They won’t appreciate being locked up like prisoners -,” 

Kenny cracks me across the face. Hard. I rock back on my heels. Is Nikolas gone? I glance towards the door. Yes, he’s vanished – but the door is open. Just a crack, but it’s open. Shame, and then anger, flashes through me. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck about what the staff appreciate,” Kenny says, his voice low and silky. “They work for me. They’re going to hold off on dinner for me. Is that understood?” 

I don’t dare raise a hand to the bruising. “Yes, Sir.” 

“Give the order, Levi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: I will (if everything goes according to plan) update next week. However, I'm probably going to update Through the Curtain instead of this fic. I love this project dearly, but I've been neglecting my other works. Thank you!


	8. Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift, some POV swapping, and the next stage of Eren's training.
> 
> I'm not really a big gun fan, so I had to do some research for this chapter. If you actually do know what you're doing with a firearm firsthand and I get something wrong, please correct me. In other news, the gun laws in my state are fucking nuts. I don't even have to prove I'm eighteen to buy a firearm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a quick and massive thank you to everyone who has left a kudo or comment. 200+ kudos??? Seriously?? Thank you so much! I had no idea I would get this much support! I love reading your comments. It means a lot to see that people continue to enjoy my work, and thank you so much for taking the time to leave something. You are hugely appreciated.

Today is my seventeenth birthday. 

Every muscle aches as I get out of bed, courtesy of Jean fucking Kirstein. He’s not as strong or fast as Levi is, but when we spar, he’s definitely more vicious. If we had fought for real yesterday, he could have cracked my ribs. Good thing I punched him in the nose. I wince as my feet hit the cold floor. 

I don’t expect a celebration for my birthday, which is fine by me. I don't want crime lords singing me happy birthday.

A lump rises in my throat. Mom always woke me up on my birthday with pancakes in bed and a present or two. No cake in the morning. She always said it would ruin my appetite, and that it wasn't a good way to start the day. Cake was for later, when I had a party with my friends. 

I bundle my emotions up and tuck them deep inside of me, where I keep everything else the Ackermans took from me. If I ever forget who I’m dealing with, even for a second, I have plenty of reminders. I’m not sold on the Family. I haven’t let down my guard, and not even seeing those children will change that. 

Jean’s already waiting outside my door. He’s silent today. It might have something to do with the bandage wrapped over his face. He, Trost and I head down to a normal breakfast. Farlan and Isabel bicker across the table while Levi sits at the head, immersed in the daily paper. Today, I notice, Trost has proper dog food. In a dog bowl.

After Farlan and Isabel leave for their respective studies, Levi folds the paper and sets it by his plate. “Eren,” he says, “Just because you’re here doesn’t mean you won’t continue your education. Starting Monday, Armin is going to tutor you.”

“Who’s Armin?” I ask.

“I’m Armin.” I jump at the sudden voice behind me and whip around. A young man with wide blue eyes and shoulder length blonde hair stands behind my chair. “Sorry!” He raises both hands. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He smiles sheepishly and sticks out a hand. “Hi.”

“Eren.” I shake his hand. 

Armin smiles. “I know.”

“Armin is our best intelligence operative,” Levi says from the head of the table. Pause. “He’s the one who found you in the first place.” 

Ah. I release Armin’s hand. So this is the associate that got me captured in the first place. Armin has the good grace to look upset, but it’s about two weeks too late. What can he say? “I’m sorry?” He did it. “I never expected this outcome?” What else did he think was going to happen?

Levi clears his throat. “See me in my office at three this afternoon. We have training. And Eren… Is there anything you want today?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, taken aback.

Levi scowls at me from the head of the table. “Today is your birthday, isn’t it? You get a gift. Choose one.”

I’m dumbfounded. “Anything?”

“Within reason.” There’s no warning in Levi’s voice, but I understand. He can’t give me anything that would endanger the Family, or its plans. 

What I want is my freedom, but that’s not tangible. Not yet. I ask for the next best thing. I take a deep breath. “I want to go into the city by myself." I'm not going to run. It’s tempting, but there’s no point in fleeing right now. I’m too deep in enemy territory.

Levi doesn’t bat an eye. “Yes.”

“I don’t want any hidden men following me,” I add.

“Done,” He replies easily. I’m surprised. I wasn’t sure he’d agree.

“Thank you, Levi.”

He grunts and rises from the table, dusting invisible dust off of his suit jacket. “Three o’clock Eren, don’t forget.”

My mind is already whirling with thoughts of freedom. The sun shines through the high windows, and I can see puffy clouds floating across the sky. It's a beautiful day. I’ll take Trost on a picnic.

Jean and I head down to the kitchens. I want a basket lunch, and Jean’s going to grab an extra pastry. “You sure do eat a lot of sweets,” I comment on the way down.

“You have a problem with that?” Jean demands.

“No,” I respond cheerfully, “But your boyfriend might.” Jean snorts.

“Jäger, we adults care about more than looks.” I roll my eyes.

“Which is why you spent four minutes of yesterday’s training session flexing in the mirror.” I point out.

“What's wrong with that? You should always check out what hard work has gotten you.”

“I want to meet Marco.” I decide. “Anyone who can stand being so close to you has to be superhuman.”

“In your dreams, kid.” I stick out my tongue at him.

“You know, you’re proving my point,” Jean drawls. “So immature.”

When we reach the kitchen, Sasha is nowhere to in sight. In her place stands a scrawny young man with a grey buzz cut. “Connie,” Jean greets him.

The man glances up. Flour coats his shirt and face from the dough he rolls, but a cheerful grin spreads across his face. “Hiya, Jean. Hello, Mr. Jäger.”

It takes me a moment to realize that he’s addressing me. My insides twist unpleasantly. “Please call me Eren.” Mr. Jäger sounds like a Family title.

Connie shrugs. “Whatever works for you, Sir.” He sticks out a hand. “Connie Springer, at your service.”

“Where’s Sasha?” Jean asks.

“Is she sick?” I add.

Connie’s sunny expression clouds over. “Ah, well about that. Boss Ackerman is going through every staff member and interrogating them. Sasha’s first in line.”

“What?” Jean and I demand together. “Why?”

Connie nods. “I know. It’s insane. The manor is on lockdown, so none of us can go home until we’re cleared.” He mashes the dough between his fingers. “The official reason hasn’t been released, but I’m guessing the boss thinks there’s a rat in the house.”

My stomach churns. “When you say the Boss is interrogating them, you mean…?”

Connie pales. “I don’t know what he has planned. He won’t kill them, but I hope nobody gets hurt. I don’t think Mr. Ackerman would let him torture anyone, but…” He swallows. “Sasha is going to be miserable. I bet she’s not going to get any food until they’re done, and that could be a while.”

“Sasha knows things, too.” I remember my first conversation with the chef. “If she isn’t guilty, she still has other secrets to hide.” Connie nods.

“She’ll be fine,” I try to assure us. “Nothing’s going to happen, and she’ll be back by dinner.” I want to believe it, but Sasha is in Boss Ackerman’s hands, and he’s a monster.

**Levi**

“There was a raid yesterday in the Eastern sector.” Fuck. That’s exactly what I need. Last night I got my standard three and a half hours, but I’m already more worn out than usual. Business has weighed on me lately. I lean back from my desk.

I don’t let my face betray any of my displeasure as I reply, “The police?” Gelgar nods once. “Alright, what’s the extent of the damage?”

“A major shipment got confiscated. Estimated five hundred firearms.” Oh, fuck me. Kenny’s suiting up for a fight with the German Families, even though there isn't supposed to be any conflict. He’s going to pop a vein when he hears his tools went missing. 

“That’s fine. I’ll notify the boss.” Gelgar’s eyes widen.

“Actually, Sir," he says cautiously, "we've already told him,” 

My breathing stills. “That’s against protocol, Gelgar.”

His eyes dart to the floor. “I know, Sir.”

“Then why did you do it?” Gelgar is smart, and he’s not a rookie. He knows how things work around here. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t have given him such a high rank.

Gelgar swallows. His eyes remain locked on my carpet. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, Sir.” 

The only reason I can imagine telling the boss directly, instead of leaving it to me to do, would be to protect me. The only reason my men would protect me from my uncle is if they know what he does to me. 

But nobody can know that. Hot, ugly shame races through me. “Don’t do it again.” I order. 

After Gelgar leaves, Mikasa and Armin file in. They invite themselves to lounge in the study’s armchairs while I finish a call with one of our associates. I also have to make sure our accountant didn’t screw anything up. Books are due in a week. 

“The raid wasn’t Nile’s,” Mikasa says. “I’m pretty sure, anyways.”

“Erwin,” I guess.

She nods. “I’d assume so.”

“It’s interesting.” Armin muses from his chair. “I’m surprised that Erwin isn’t trying to hide. He’s being very blatant about police involvement in his crackdowns. He can’t honestly believe that the community will support him.”

“Some will,” Mikasa murmurs. “Maybe not a majority, but a lot.” The ravenette frowns. “Does he want us to pressure the police?”

“Could be” I muse. “He has to know that we have friends in the department. Unfortunately, it looks like we have some enemies, too.” Armin nods in confirmation.

“Commander Pixis is willing to back him. He recently gave Erwin Smith a promotion.”

I sigh. “Don’t tell the boss. We’ll try to deal with this quietly. Mikasa?”

“I know.” My cousin slides off her chair. “I’m already making preparations. If everything goes well, Erwin will be dead in a week.” Pause. “You could do something, you know.”

The words echo in the study. I know what she means – all three of us do – but being more explicit could kill us. “I can’t.” I try not to sound too pathetic. “Isabel and Farlan would get hurt.”

“It’s all petty venom, Levi.” She presses. 

“My hands are tied.” I lock eyes with Mikasa. “Don’t, Ackerman.”

She holds my gaze for a moment longer before dipping her head. “Of course, Sir.”

The conversation lingers in the air long after they both leave. I open the back window and pick up a new pen. First thing first, I should order a new shipment to replace the one we lost. Then I’m going to relocate the drop-off so the cops –

The door to my study slams open with a bang. “Rivaille Ackerman,” Hange seethes, “You. You wound me.”

“Doctor Hange, you are not permitted to speak to Mr. Ackerman without a proper appointment!” One of the guards stationed outside moves to grab Hange’s arm. The lunatic dances out of reach.

“It’s okay, Nanaba,” I say. “But thank you.” The blond guard hesitates, but she leaves. The door shuts behind her.

Of course, it doesn’t matter that the door is closed, because half the fucking house can hear Hange’s screaming. I want to burry my head in my arms. My headache is well on its way to becoming a full-blown migraine.

“I didn’t know it was Eren’s birthday.” Hange declares, shoving her finger in my face. “Don’t. Keep. Things. From. Me. Especially not important things.”

“I sent a couple men your way for physicals.” I say icily. “Shouldn’t you be taking care of them?”

“Levi.” Hange warns. “Muffin.” 

“Yes,” I relent. I didn’t tell you.”

“I would have done something nice for him!”

I jab a finger at her. “That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything. I don’t think any of us are in a position to do something for him.”

Hange blinks. “No? Please.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are. That’s the problem.”

“Hange, I don’t think he wants any sort of celebration. He never even said it’s his birthday.” I run a hand down my face. “Christ, it was awkward enough when I offered him a gift this morning,”

“You did WHAT?” I want to take the words back, but it’s too late. Hange’s already grabbed onto them like some oversized leech. Sometimes, I wonder if her supposed insanity is actually an interrogation technique. It’s very effective. 

I sigh. “I offered Eren anything he wanted, as long as it wasn’t too outrageous. He wanted to go into Karanse for a day. Unsupervised.”

“You said yes. You don’t think he’s going to run.”

“Of course I said yes. It’s the least any of us can do.” It was tempting to say no, to demand an escort, but it was crucial to Eren that he was unattended. “If he runs, then he’s a bigger dumbass than I thought.” 

“That’s… actually very nice of you, Vi,” I send Hange a sharp look. I don’t recognize the tone she’s adopted, and it’s too conniving for me to feel comfortable.

“What are you thinking, Hange?”

“Nothing.” Hange stares at me. A more-alarming-than-usual grin spreads over her face. “You’re being very nice, that’s all.”

“… Get out.”

**Eren**

It’s hard to admire the pretty, polished Karanse when its darker, more desolate side is fresh in my mind. As a result, I don’t linger on the streets. There’s nothing to do, anyways. I don’t have any cash on me (Would Levi have given me some if I asked?), so I can’t buy anything in the shopping district. Instead, I find a spot by a creek within the parks. I take Trost off his leash, set out a blanket, and begin unpacking our picnic.

The rotweiller chases a few squirrels around the grove. The air echoes with frenzied barking. Eventually, the smell of sandwiches draws Trost over to me. My dog trots over to the basket and settles down, watching me with wide, hopeful eyes. I give him a light swat.

“No way, boy. You’ve had enough people food lately.” Trost whines. “Besides, you don’t get fed three times a day. You’ll be as fat as Jean.” Either Trost doesn’t like the idea of no food, or he doesn’t like being compared to horseface, but he whimpers. I stroke his head. I grab a nearby stick and chuck it as far as I can. Trost dashes after it with a thrilled bark.

The sun shines down on the clearing, warming my skin. Above, plump clouds drift over the pastel sky. I close my eyes, and a soft breeze blows over my skin. It rustles the tree branches.

Being here feels strange. It’s peaceful, but it’s a single moment in time. I wonder how the grove will look in the fall, when red leaves crunch underfoot and the sky turns a stormy grey. Then I remember that when fall comes around, I’ll be long gone. I'll either be in Germany or elsewhere. 

I could try to run from this place, but I won’t. I can’t. I’m only here because I’m allowed to be, and I’m grateful for it, but bile rises in my mouth. Such a small piece of freedom, and I had to ask for it. I’m leashed. Chained through threats, pain, and loss. 

I blot out the feelings as much as I can and roll over onto my side. The blanket wrinkles under me. Trost nudges my face before dropping the stick, wet and covered in saliva, and plopping down beside me. The dog curls up against my side, and we both drift off into a gentle sleep.

When I see Levi in his office that afternoon, I ask, “Do you know why your uncle is interrogating servants?” 

Levi grunts. “Someone told the paper that we were involved in your kidnapping. Since then, the authorities have looked into it. Someone on the inside must have squealed about you. Mr. Ackerman locked the house down so that he could narrow down the list of suspects.” Levi snorts. “It’s a stupid plan. Anyone inside the organization could know about you. The staff talk to people outside the Family. The guards rotate. There’s a good chance that Kenny won’t find the person he’s looking for.” He shakes his head. “Not that logic will deter him." 

“How does he interrogate the staff?” 

“My uncle isn’t afraid. He's angry. I’m not sure if he’d be violent. If you’re worried about the cook,” Levi adds, his voice softening, “Sasha will be fine. She’s tough, and her food is too good for the boss to risk losing her.” 

Levi and I don’t go to the gym for training. Instead, I find myself in a darkly painted, square room with a wide array of guns up on the walls. Some of the weapons look relatively unassuming. Others are clearly military firearms.

“When you first started training,” Levi says, “I told you that you’d have more useful training than hand-to-hand.” He nods at the row of weapons. “These days, most fights aren’t fistfights. You need to learn how to pull a trigger.”

“No.” I back away from the guns.

“Yes,” Levi responds calmly. “You already own a firearm, don’t you? What happened to the one I gave you?”

I shoved it into the bottom drawer of my dresser and locked it. “Eren,” Levi continues, “I’m not telling you to use one in the field. I’m telling you that you need to practice just in case. I won’t force you to turn it on a person.” Levi leans back against the door. “You need to learn how to defend yourself. Neither of us are going to leave this room until I’m satisfied with your progress.”

I grit my teeth. What happened to the Levi who offered me a gift this morning? He’s nowhere in sight. A pair of steely eyes has replaced him.

“Fine.” I pick the most unassuming weapon I can. A small model. “I’m going to use this one.”

Something like approval gleams in his eyes. “Good choice.”

After a basic lesson in firearm anatomy, Levi and I go into the adjoining room. Behind the door lies a small shooting range. I weigh the gun in my hand, unsure how to carry the metal. Levi’s watchful gaze tracks me across the room, and I feel weirdly self-conscious.

I’ve seen enough movies to understand how to at least hold the gun. Levi scrutinizes my grip. “Bring your right hand up higher.” He advises. “Press it up as high as you can on the body.”

“Does grip really matter?” I ask.

“It gives you better control. Don’t bring your left hand so far forwards. Your left thumb should be right under your right one. Push upwards, remember? As high as possible.” I huff in frustration.

“Levi-,” My voice dies as he steps up behind me and sets both hands over mine.

“Look,” Levi says lowly, “your grip is too spread out. You’re going to shoot yourself in the hand.” His fingers gently pry my hands off the weapon and rearrange them. I can feel the shift of his shoulders and chest as he moves behind me. “Like that, okay?” His breath warms the shell of my ear.

Levi’s warmth abruptly disappears as he steps away. “Careful how much pressure you use to hold the gun, too. You want most of your grip to come from your support hand. It’s harder to pull the trigger if your strong hand is locked up. Now, show me your stance.”

“…What?”

“Just stand,” Levi snaps, “and I’ll critique it.” The moment I fall into a position, gun raised, he snorts. “Jesus Christ, Eren. Where do you get your advice from, cop shows?”

I scowl. “Some of us haven’t been doing this since before we could walk.”

A flicker of something I don’t recognize crosses Levi’s face. “I haven’t either.” Before I can ask what he means by that, he says, “Keep your position simple. Spread your legs a bit for a wider stance – yeah, like that, - and don’t tilt your head to the side. Bring the gun to you, not the other way around.” I raise the weapon so it’s centered in front of my face before bringing it outwards towards the target.

“Good.” Levi notes. The stance leaves my support arm feeling a bit strained. “Don’t fidget, Eren. It makes things harder.” Levi walks around me once. “When you aim, make sure your front sight centers between your rear sights.” The target grows hazy as I adjust my aim, and my eyes twinge. Once I’m prepared, Levi says coolly, “Aim for the middle. Solid torso shot.” He instructs me. “Aim a bit higher than the bulls-eye. People think bullets go in a straight line, but that’s bullshit. You have to aim higher because of science. Ask Hange, I don't know how it works. Now, fire.”

All the targets are shaped like people. A black cutout stares at me from across the shooting range. It’s a silhouette of a torso and head, devoid of clothes, color, or facial features. It’s dehumanizing. Pulling the trigger is easy when you're shooting a picture that doesn’t resemble a human to begin with.

My mind fills in the blanks, pasting familiar faces over the cutouts. Thomas. Franz. The police officer that Levi shot. The doctor he also killed. “Why do they have to be people?” My voice barely reaches a whisper, but it echoes around the empty room.

“Because we’re not shooting bunnies.” Levi says. I squeeze my eyes shut and will the images to go away. “Eren,” Levi says, “I know it’s hard, but it’s necessary.” A small part of me wants to spit at him for those words. What does Levi know about having some semblance of humanity?

And then I remind myself that doing that would be the same as telling myself a particularly vicious lie.

I open my eyes. Across the room, the figure of Kenny Ackerman sneers back at me. I pull the trigger.

The gun leaps in my hands, but I have a firm hold on it. My ears echo with the force of the blast. Levi winces next to me. His eyes travel from the hole in the center of the target to my face. “Nice shot.” Levi approves. “Next time, we should use hearing protection. I forgot. Now, I’ll show you how to reload.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have to aim a little high when shooting in order to compensate for gravity pulling the bullet downwards.


	9. Interloper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shooting. Training. An unexpected visit. Mikasa/Eren/Levi POVs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but it's fairly eventful. I'm happy with how it turned out. My only uncertainty is the Mikasa POV. Honestly, I don't adore her, and this is my first attempt to write from her perspective. I hope it turned out okay!

**Mikasa**

My position on the roof allows me a good view of the Karanse central police department. Nothing should give away my position. The wind is behind me – still something to compensate for, but not necessarily adverse – and the sun’s position won’t expose any reflected light from my scope. I settle into position. Of course, the sun’s position will change in an hour or so. I have to work quickly. I glance at my watch. Erwin Smith will step through those doors any second now. If Armin’s schedule is accurate, Smith’s meeting will be over in five minutes. Armin has never been wrong. 

I triple check my equipment. The .388 Lapua Magnum isn’t my favorite rifle, not my old Winchester Mag, but it’s not a bad gun. I like my Winchester’s feel. It’s a solid, all-around weapon. Still, I have to admit that the Lapua is more efficient. 

_Are you going to keep using that old thing?_ Annie’s voice drifts through my head. _You’ve had that Windchester for almost ten years._ True, but it’s been a good ten years. _Nothing lasts forever, you know._ Annie’s right. I’m not sure if I want the Lapua to be a replacement gun, though. I might get another Windchester. 

I peer through my scope. The door to the police station remains shut. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m a hawk. A sentinel. I have all day to wait here. All night, too, if I have to wait that long. My gaze narrows and sharpens to the meters in front of me. My finger balances on the trigger. I take a deep breath, then another. My scarf buffets around my face. 

_And speaking of old things…_ Annie tugs on the scarf. _When are you going to get rid of this rag?_ Never. It’s a gift from a long time ago. 

My watch beeps a soft warning. I have to change positions soon, or risk exposure. My legs twinge from being tucked under me at such an awkward angle. _I am steel._ I remind myself. Does Erwin Smith want to make me wait? Fine. I’ll wait. 

The unmistakable, cold circle of a gun barrel kisses the back of my skull. Every muscle in my body locks. “Put your arms above your head,” A man’s voice directs behind me. “Stand up and move away from the weapon.” I comply, my movements achingly slow. Biting steel snaps around my wrists. Handcuffs. I curse to myself. It’s the authorities. 

I’ve only ever seen this officer in files on my cousin’s desk, but between that jaw and the gigantic eyebrows, the man’s identity is unmistakable. 

Erwin Smith chuckles. “Mikasa Ackerman, I presume?”

**Eren**

Once I get the hang of it, shooting becomes just like hand-to-hand: Relaxing. Mindless. Aim. Trigger. Repeat. Levi integrates target practice into my training routine. My schedule looks like this: 

0800 – Breakfast

0900 – Class with Armin

1200 – Lunch break. Walk Trost

1300 – Resume class

1600 – Hand-to-hand and weight room

1800 – Shooting

2000 – Downtime, get cleaned up before dinner

2100 – Dinner 

2200 – Homework and bed 

It feels good to have structure in my day. The routine keeps my mind off of things, and when I fall asleep, I’m too tired and sore to question myself. 

My next shot nicks the target’s shoulder. Today, we’ve taken over a gun club downtown. Levi didn’t come with us, but his team is here, and they’ll meet up for a job later. If there’s one thing I’m thankful for, it’s that my schedule doesn’t leave any room to join their outings. 

Jean decided to join in, and he brought his big semi-automatic rifle with him. I roll my eyes. “Hey, horseface, you know what people say about men with big guns, right?” Jean eyes me warily. “They’re compensating for something very small.” 

“Very funny, Jäger,” Jean sends another couple of rounds into the target. “You know, the bigger the gun, the more difficult it is to control. You don’t have the muscle to handle weapons like this.” He pats the barrel affectionately. 

“Oh, really? I think I’m shaping up pretty well.” I flex one arms for emphasis. 

Petra sighs. “Boys, I would like the shooting range to be a no-flex zone.” 

Gunther snorts. “It’s a gun range, Petra. Flexing is an obligation.” 

Oluo chuckles. “Hey, Eld, remember your rifle training?” The dark-haired man groans. 

“You support rifles on your shoulder, right?” Oluo tells me. “Eld, first time he tries to shoot, he holds it straight out in front of him the way you do with a pistol.” The man laughs. “And then, when the gun recoils, he gets himself in the face!” 

“When I was learning to advance with a rifle,” Gunther offers, “I tripped over my ankles. Almost shot myself in the foot.” The group chuckles. “You’re hardly one to tell stories, Oluo,” Gunther adds. “Didn’t you piss yourself on your first job?” 

Oluo turns a violent shade of purple. “Petra did too!”

“I thought we agreed never to talk about that again.” Petra looks like she’s considering turning Oluo into Swiss cheese. 

There are a few other patrons on the range, but they give us a wide berth. I catch a few nervous glances in our direction. 

I aim again, this time going for a head shot. Grey eyes and a long overcoat dance in front of my vision. I always shoot with Kenny in mind. He’s the only target I want to fire at. The gun jumps in my hands. I bite back a hiss as the metal chafes my skin. It turns out that griping a weapon for a few hours a day can give you some impressive callouses – but not before it rubs your hands raw. 

“Not bad,” Gunther appraises my shot. “You still have to aim a little higher,” I grunt in agreement. “How are your lessons with Armin going?”

“He’s a good teacher. It’s weird to be taught by someone not much older than I am,” I admit. Eld chuckles. 

“Armin is a prodigy. When he was little, he used to come up and read in the library for hours at a time. Once, he fell off a ladder when he tried to reach the books on the highest shelves. Hange set it, if I remember correctly.” 

“Armin’s a bit…” I don’t know how to say it.

“Creepy?” Petra offers. 

“No.” I frown. “I mean, sort of, but he doesn’t try to be? He knows everything you’re about to say before you open your mouth.” 

“That’s Armin Arlert for you,” Gunther agrees. “It’s his job to know things.” 

Like where Mom and I were hiding. “How the hell does a kid get wrapped up in this Family?” I wonder aloud. Oluo shrugs. 

“Armin’s not your typical kid.” 

I adjust my earmuffs and take another shot at the target. The bullet punches a hole in the silhouette’s throat. Eld whistles appreciatively. I set the gun down and remove the now-empty magazine. I reach for a fresh one, but I catch myself at the last minute. I remove my hearing protection. “Done already?” Jean asks. 

“We’ve been here a few hours,” I say, “and Armin gave me homework.” Petra and Oluo exchange a glance. 

“Capitaine gave us permission to eat out.” Petra tells me. “It’s early, but if you’re hungry, we can find a restaurant. I could go for a bite to eat myself.” 

The offer is tempting. My new routine is intensive, and my daily trips down to the kitchen aren’t only for Jean’s snacks anymore. “Do you know a good restaurant nearby?” 

A light dances in Eld’s eye. “There’s a good Moroccan place just around the corner.”

“I could go for Moroccan,” Oluo agrees. “Is that the place with the orange lamb tagine?”

Jean groans. “That tagine is so fucking good.” 

My mouth waters. “Lead the way.” 

**Levi**

“Look Mr. Ackerman, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but this is all a big misunderstanding.” 

I flip through some of the sheets of paper on my desk. “Oh? And why do you say that?” I glance up at the sniveling mess on the carpet before me. “I gave you and your men a very easy assignment, Tom: Take the goods to the other side of the river and wait for our contact to pick it up. It’s not as if I sent you down to Mexico to pick up a shipment.” Which, to be clear, I will never do. Tom doesn’t know how to negotiate with his own shoelaces, let alone the cartels. 

Tom flushes. “W-Well, Mr. Ackerman, you see -,”

“No, I don’t.”

“Jacob’s the one who really messed up, Sir! He was supposed to meet us at the drop-off point, but -,”

“Really, Tom? Trying to hand off the blame? We both know that Jacob couldn’t do anything seeing that you brought the shipment to the wrong place to begin with.” Tom’s face flares beet red. 

“With all due respect, Sir, you’re the one who gave us the original coordinates.”

“Are you suggesting that I am the one to blame for this mess?” I demand, my voice feather-soft. Tom takes too long to answer. “Get out of my fucking sight.” He scrambles through the door to my office. Tom’s face has an appropriately mortified expression, but the moment he steps out of the room, I see a relieved, smug smile flit over his features. 

Prick. I’d punish him, but he’s one of Kenny’s favorites. I’ll find something particularly unsavory for his next assignment. I can’t let him think that he’s getting off with a slap to the wrist. 

“Mr. Zacharias?” 

“Mmm?” 

“When did my team leave for the city?”

“Two hours ago. They’ll be on their way back.”

“I told them they could stop for a bite to eat.” I pause. “That Eren could eat,” I correct myself. My team members are not my prisoners. 

“Then they might do that.”

I look back at the big man. Mike’s face is quiet, but there’s a certain kindness to his features that I don’t know what to make of. 

It’s good for Eren to get some time out of the house. I worry about him lately. After we started using firearms, and he got a formal schedule, Eren has thrown himself into his new life. Eren no longer fights with the staff or demands morality from everyone in the household, but his new dogged work ethic is almost alarming. 

This is what I want, I remind myself. Eren should get used to living with a Family. 

A knock on the door. “I’m not expecting anyone,” I tell Mike. The blonde’s hand falls to his waist. “Qui est là?” _(Who’s there?)_ I call. 

Erwin Smith steps through my office door. I’m suddenly hyperaware of the papers stacked around me. Some are encrypted, and some look harmless, but a closer inspection will reveal plenty of illegal dealings. “Mr. Smith,” I say, covering my surprise. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. How did he get in here? “Please, take a seat.” 

Erwin settles into the armchair on the other side of my desk. “Actually, Mr. Ackerman, I’ve received a promotion. I’m replacing Nile Dok as the commander at our station.” 

“Congratulations.” Nifa comes through the door with a tea tray. “What brings you to my home?”

Erwin smiles, and my skin prickles. I don’t like his confidence. He’s in the viper’s nest, and yet he seems very pleased with himself. “How’s business, Mr. Ackerman?” 

“Fine, thank you,” I stir my tea. “Our Paris is office is going to expand in August, so we’re preparing for the transition.” 

“Exciting,” Erwin comments. Regardless of what Eren might think, the Family does have some legitimate business ventures. They’re not as valuable as our shadier work, but they still turn a good profit. “And your other business?”

I frown and set my cup aside. “Excuse me?” 

The corner of Erwin’s mouth curves upwards. “Mr. Ackerman, I’m going to be very blunt with you. We both know full well what you and your family do for a living, and we both know that I’d love to lock you up for it. However, we haven’t had any proof until now.” 

“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say sharply. “Are you suggesting that my company is engaging in illegitimate activities?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” Erwin steeples his fingers. “Just this morning, your cousin tried to kill me.”

I keep my limbs loose and my face relaxed. “Impossible. Mikasa would never attack anyone.” 

“Perhaps you don’t know her very well,” Erwin responds dryly. “In any case, we have evidence to tie her attempt to you.” Erwin produces a tape from his jacket pocket and sets it on my desk. He presses play. 

_“Commander Pixis is willing to back him. He recently gave Erwin Smith a promotion.”_ Armin. 

I hear myself sigh. _“Don’t tell the boss. We’ll try to deal with this quietly. Mikasa?”_

_“I know.”_ Mikasa's voice crackles over the tape. _“I’m already making preparations. If everything goes well, Erwin will be dead in a week.”_

“This isn’t the only copy of the tape,” Erwin adds, watching my expression carefully. I fight to keep calm. “My colleagues also have records of the encounter.”

I phrase my response carefully. “This doesn’t prove anything.”

Erwin chuckles. “I agree that it isn’t explicit, but it’s enough for a jury.” 

I grit my teeth. “What do you want, Commander Smith? Justice?” 

“That’s exactly what I want,” Erwin leans forwards in the chair. “Mr. Ackerman, I know a conviction will be difficult. I know you have friends in high places and a great many public supporters. I do not want a highly publicized trial, and the last thing we need is an armed conflict between the government and the Ackerman syndicate.” 

“So what do you propose?” I ask.

“I want to reach an agreement,” Erwin says. “You and your Family will halt all criminal activity. You will turn in the names of your contacts in other countries and in the French government. You will also give up all of your illegal assets and turn them over to the government. If you comply, Mikasa will be released and we will not pursue legal action.” Erwin pauses. “Additionally, if you have Eren Jäger, you will place him in police custody.”

I force a chuckle. “Do you honestly think we have some American schoolboy?”

“An American schoolboy with ties to a criminal empire.” Erwin counters. “And one whom the U.S. government will very much like to have back.” 

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re looking for a diplomatic tool? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Eren Jäger isn’t here.” 

“Maybe I’m mistaken, but I’m sure I saw a rottweiller downstairs.” 

Stupid mutt. I thought he was locked in Eren's room. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. He’s the family pet.”

“Eren Jäger has a rottweiller,” Erwin presses. “The dog disappeared with him.” 

I snort. “With all due respect Mr. Smith, many people have rottweillers.” 

“That’s true,” Erwin agrees, “but how many of those rottweillers are named Trost?” The bastard smiles. “You should be careful about what’s on a dog collar, Mr. Ackerman.”

I entertain the idea of lacing Erwin’s tea with arsenic. That would wipe the smile off of his face. “I’ll say it again: Eren Jäger isn’t here.” Erwin’s smile widens. He has me, and we both know it. Damn him. 

Behind the office door, footsteps thunder down the hall. Uncle Kenny’s finally heard that the cops are here. I sigh inwardly. Can’t he leave me be? I don’t need him starting a firefight. 

I’ll wrap this up before it gets out of hand. “Do you have a search warrant?” I ask.

“No,” Erwin admits. 

“Then get out of my house before I have you arrested for trespassing.” 

Erwin dips his head and rises from the chair. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Ackerman. I trust that you’ll consider my offer?” That damn smile. 

“Of course,” 

The door to my office flies open. “Hey, Levi -,” Eren pokes his head into the room. All the color drains from his face when he sees who I’m talking to. Nikolas and Nanaba seize Eren and pull him away, but it’s too late. Erwin turns back to me. 

“I’ll give you three days to act, starting tomorrow.” The commander dons his jacket. “Send your uncle my regards.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armin backstory will show up eventually, and I know that ARB hasn't been formally introduced, but that'll change soon. My stories tend to have a habit of running away from me. These last couple chapters have scrambled my outline a little bit. I'm not mad at the result, but it does put a bend in my plans.


	10. Forum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of this is dialogue. It gets a little angsty towards the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer for me isn't really much of a break. It just means I work on everything I don't have time for during the school year. It's not that I don't enjoy it, but it is tiring. As always, thank you for the support! You guys are awesome.
> 
> (What did you think of Chapter 94?)

Unfamiliar faces populate the dinner table tonight. Isabel and Farlan are nowhere in sight, and Mr. Ackerman joins us instead. With him comes a host of men with expressions ranging from tense to murderous. My usual seat is taken, so I’m placed next to Levi. Jean stands at my shoulder behind me. 

“Officers,” Levi explains. “We’re having a Family meeting.” 

“About Erwin?” I ask. Levi nods.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have knocked.”

“You should have,” Levi agrees, “but it doesn’t matter. He didn’t come to look for you.” He waves away any incoming questions. “Listen, and you might figure something out, okay?” Pause. “I thought you wanted the cops to find you here.” 

Before I can respond, Kenny taps his glass. The table falls silent. “Gentlemen,” He begins, “First, I want to apologize for bringing you here on such short notice. By now, you’ve all heard about our situation.” 

A portly, balding man thumps the table. “I want to know how Erwin found out about our assassination attempt. I thought that conversation took place behind closed doors.”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Reeves, I think I know,” Levi sets a small black object by his plate. The men around us lean forwards to get a good look. “I found this bug under my desk,” Levi says. “This is the only one I’ve found, but I have no idea how long it’s been hiding there – which means that our friends down at the police station might know more than just this incident.”

“Well, that’s just great.” A blonde with rippling muscles leans back in his chair. “The other day, Mr. Ackerman, you and I had a phone call about my business in Lyon. Should I expect to find the police on my doorstep tomorrow?” 

“I doubt it,” Levi says. “We have three days to act, not counting today. Erwin won’t make a move until our time is up.” 

Kenny takes a swig from his wine glass. “Why did you only find this… intrusion now?”

Levi scowls. “I have a girl who checks my office for bugs. I leave things to her, but it looks like she missed this one.”

“Send her to me.”

“Of course.” 

A gangly brunet speaks up. “How are we expected to deal with these threats? What about Erwin’s demands?”

Levi counts them on his fingers. “Cease criminal activity. Turn over the names of foreign and government friends. Give them Eren.” All eyes turn to me. 

“Okay, so the first one is out of the question,” The blonde says. 

“It makes no business sense,” Mr. Reeves agrees. 

“It would be insanity,” The brunet chimes in. “What are we supposed to do, tell our suppliers ‘Sorry, we’re no longer buying from you?’ Cancel shipments? There would be uproar. We can end contracts and reimburse our clients, but what do you do about products that are suddenly left in the hands of our middlemen?” 

“We don’t betray our friends,” The blonde adds. “So no, we won’t release the names. As for turning over the Jäger boy…” His gaze lingers on me. I scowl at him across the table. 

“I’m right here,” I snap. “Don’t talk about me like I’m meat.” 

“Shut up, all of you.” Kenny sets his glass down. “I make the decisions around here.” Around us, the servants bring in the main course. “I agree with Mr. Braun and Mr. Fubar that we will not cease doing business and we will not release the names of our dear friends. Either action would be dangerous for everyone involved. Likewise, we will not turn Eren over to the police. Even though,” Kenny says dryly, “I’m quite sure he’d like us to.” 

“That leaves us with two options. One. We refuse, and everyone in this room goes to prison for a very long time. Two. We burn Erwin Smith and all of his evidence to the ground. One option is clearly more appealing than the other.” 

“Burn Erwin?” Levi says. “It won’t be that simple. If we attack the police, we’re provoking the French government.” 

“They’ve already provoked us,” Mr. Braun points out. 

“Do you want the fucking military involved?” Levi shoots back. “That’ll be a long, expensive battle that we can’t win.” 

“Levi,” Kenny chastises. “You assume that the government would know we’re involved. Let’s say there’s an accident. A failure. Unfortunately, a lot of evidence gets damaged in the process. End of story.” 

“Erwin isn’t stupid. He won’t keep evidence locked up in one police station. I bet you anything there’s some on his personal computer, his flash drives, and a few different clouds. He won’t waste this much leverage.” 

“Erwin is human,” Mr. Reeves says. “He has to have weak points. We’ll get some leverage of our own.” 

“In three days?” 

“We’ll manage. If we don’t, then what kind of men are we?” Mr. Braun says. 

“What about Mikasa?” I ask. The bickering men drown me out. “HEY!” Levi growls a warning. “Are you going to help Mikasa? Do you even care about her?” 

“You’re here as a guest, kid,” Kenny says sternly. “Don’t butt in.” He stabs his steak. “Mikasa got caught. She won’t squeal, but she won’t help us, either. The best thing to do is leave her be. I won’t waste men initiating a jailbreak.” 

“Eren, Mikasa isn’t our first priority,” Levi reasons. “If Erwin’s evidence gets out, we’ll all be in deep shit. Mikasa is one person. She wouldn’t want us to waste time jeopardizing the organization for her sake.” 

“What are we going to do about Eren?” The brunet speaks up. “If he doesn’t get turned over, where does he go?” 

“You guys are all missing the bigger problem.” I jump. Armin appears through the doors of the dining room. The blonde doesn’t seem to realize that he spoke out of turn until the table’s gaze rests on him. He flushes. “Sorry, I -,”

“What do you mean?” Kenny asks. 

Armin straightens his shoulders. “Sir, we still haven’t captured the spy leaking information to the police. If they hear about out plans now, nothing we say here matters.” 

Kenny grunts. “Well, the girl Levi mentioned might be our spy. Then we’ve solved that problem.” 

“Annie Leonhart,” Levi notes. The brunet man gasps. “Is something wrong, Mr. Fubar?” 

Both the brunet and the blonde look shaken. “Bertholdt and I grew up with Annie,” Mr. Braun says. “She’s no traitor.”

“That remains to be seen.” Kenny wipes his face with his napkin. “All right gentlemen, here’s the plan: Starting tomorrow, we mobilize.”

Bertholdt sucks in a breath. “You don’t mean -,” 

“We’re going to the mattresses,” Kenny confirms. “We tell Mr. Smith that if he unleashes the law on us, we go to war. We’ll see what he makes of that. In the meantime, we don’t stop any business. Am I clear?” 

The dining hall is deathly silent. “I’ll take that as a yes. Reeves, Fubar, Braun – leave. Eren, you and Levi stay.” 

My dinner went cold a long time ago, but I don’t have much of an appetite – partially because I ate early, with Levi’s team, but also because of what I’ve just heard. 

“So,” Kenny says, “What am I going to do with you two?” He shakes his head. “Levi, how many times have I told you that if you want something done right, you should do it yourself? Check your own office for bugs.” 

“With all due respect Sir, my workload leaves me very little time to -,”

“Your excuses will kill us all,” Kenny snaps. “In any case, I don’t want you at the house until this all blows over. You have a safe house?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go there. Take Eren with you.” Kenny directs. “And do it quietly. I don’t need our enemies on your tail.” He sighs. “You know, Levi, if you had locked that boy -,” Kenny flicks a finger at me “- away like I told you to, our little mole might never have caught wind of him. One less problem to worry about.” 

“Hey! I’m right here!” 

Kenny looks me up and down with shrewd, calculating eyes. “How do we know you aren’t our spy, Eren?” All the air leaves my lungs in a rush. “It would make sense,” Kenny muses. “You have more than enough reason to want to undermine us, don’t you, boy? Given how my nephew lets you run amok, it would be easy for you to relay information to the police.”

“That’s not -,” I stammer. “I didn’t -,” 

“For the love of fuck, can we please not throw accusations around wildly?”

“I hardly think it’s a wild accusation,” Kenny says. “It makes perfect sense.” 

“Do you have any proof?” Levi challenges.

Kenny chuckles. “What makes you think you’re in any position to ask for proof?”

“Eren is my ward,” Levi says, his voice low with warning.

“Only by my good graces,” Kenny reminds him. “And watch your tone, nephew.” He flaps a hand. “At least Eren will be contained when you two are away.”

“Yes, Sir.” Levi leans forwards. “As for Isabel and Farlan -,”

“I don’t care what the fuck happens as long as the cops don’t get them,” Kenny says. “God knows they make you weak enough when they’re safe.” Kenny tosses his napkin on the tablecloth and rises from his chair. “Clean this up.” He orders as he leaves the room. “And Levi, you and I need to talk about our plans in Switzerland.” 

Levi doesn’t waste a moment before directing the servants to clear the table and clean the room. I can read his eyes when they run over the plates. We both have the same thought. At least half of the food is untouched. What a waste. “Ne gaspillez pas la nourriture,” He says. _(Put the food to good use)._

“I never told the police anything,” I tell him when we’re alone. “I swear, Levi.”

“I want to believe that,” Levi responds. 

I stare. “If you think I’m going to lie to you -,” 

“I don’t think you'd lie,” Levi says, “not really.” He wipes a speck of dust off of the table. “We all have to be careful, though.” 

“So you don’t believe me.”

“That’s kind of what I said, yeah.” 

"When you find the mole, it won't be me." It hurts, I realize, to be held at arm’s length. Even though it’s Levi. Or especially because it’s Levi. Even after the small pieces of kindness I’ve been shown, I’m not trusted. 

“Damnit, brat,” Levi says. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I killed your puppy, stewed it, and made you eat it. And now you can’t shit it out.” I roll my eyes. 

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” I tell him. Levi grunts. “You’re such a suave, elegant bastard, but just like that -,” I snap my fingers, “you turn into some ineloquent asshole.” 

Levi chuckles. “I’m the ineloquent one?” 

“Either way, you aren’t wining any prizes.” The words slip out of my mouth before I process them, and shit, they hit closer to home than I intended. “Wait, no I didn’t mean it like that!” 

Levi flicks my nose. “Brat,” 

**Levi**

Eren looks absolutely mortified, but I shake off a stab of guilt. “Brat.” I flick his nose. On a whim, I ask him, “Est-ce que tu me comprends?” _(Can you understand me?)_

Eren’s eyes widen. He has gorgeous eyes, these big gemstones that I call green, but there’s also blue and gold swirling around in them. Eren has the kind of eyes that are beautiful even when he’s hurt, angry, or thinking something ugly. They’re never dull. 

“Un petit peu.” _(A little bit.)_ Oh? Well, well, well. At least Eren’s putting his time to good use. 

“Qui t'a appris?” _(Who taught you?)_

I watch the gears turn for a minute before Eren understands. “Armin,” He replies. Eren looks so damn pleased with himself. Give the man a fucking cookie. 

“Ça va devenir plus compliqué de te cacher des informations,” I say. “Est-ce que ce serait mieux si je me mettais à parler espagno?” 

Eren looks at me blankly. I have a little more time before I have to go that far, I decide. His expression suddenly becomes stormy. “Levi.” Eren reaches up and brushes the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone. I jerk away, my skin heating, but his touch has already disappeared. Eren holds up his hand. A creamy, skin-tone substance dusts his finger where he touched me. “What is this?” He asks, looking somehow rueful. “Is this concealer?” 

Well, fuck. I don’t need to answer that, because, yes, it is. Obviously Eren knows why I’m wearing it too, because something ferocious passes over his face. “Why do you put up with him?” Eren demands. 

"Him". It makes it sound like my uncle is some sort of fucking god. My lungs close up. I’m tempted not to answer. If I do, I’m going to be honest. I’m going to be weak. “Because of Isabel and Farlan,” My traitorous mouth. “Because they’re safe here. Mother is here too, and I can’t leave her in this place.” 

Eren looks slightly ill. I want to tell him that it’s not that bad. It used to be worse. Kenny is more careful around me now that I can take care of myself. When I was a kid, then it was bad – not necessarily always beatings and cruel words, but hours locked in dark, cramped spaces. Refused meals. My uncle wanted to toughen me up, he told me. He had to make sure that none of my mother’s weakness ran in my veins. I had to be an Ackerman the Family could be proud of. Things have gotten better since then, and they continue to improve. Now, I’m subject to discipline. The marks are for show more than anything, reminders to the world around me that I’m not in charge. 

“You’re strong,” Eren says. The expression on his face is familiar disgust. 

“Kenny is stronger,” I say. Eren shakes his head doubtfully. “Everything my family has is in his name, and the powerful friends we have are more his than anyone else’s.”

Eren stares at me for a long second before he speaks again. “The only power he seems to have over you is fear” 

“Only,” The word is rotten on my tongue. “Don’t underestimate fear. Why haven’t you run away by now? You fear the consequences.” 

Eren bristles, but we both know I’m right. “You can still fight him,” He digs in. 

“Don’t tell me how to handle a situation you’ve never been in,” I warn. 

“He values you,” Eren continues. “As a tool, which is bullshit, but he values you. Negotiate. Stand up for yourself. Don’t let him hurt you.” 

I resist the urge to laugh. Poor, sweet little kid. He’s not even a legal adult, for crying out loud. Eren means well, but he doesn’t know shit. “Trust me. If it was that simple, I would have done it a long time ago. There are people you don’t negotiate with.”

“Everyone has things you can use to negotiate with them,” Eren counters. 

“No, they don’t.” I shouldn’t be so mad, but I am, and anger has a way of blowing everything else to shit. “God, you’re like a fucking monkey.”

Confusion, anger, and frustration blur in Eren’s gaze. “Excuse me?”

“Monkey see, monkey do.” What the fuck am I even saying? “You think that you can follow the examples of everyone around you? Since your dad has something to negotiate with, my uncle does? Since I have a weakness,” No, shit, don’t remind him of that, “so does everyone else?” 

Worlds burn in Eren’s eyes. “I don’t think that.” 

“Right,” I’m stupid. Why did I say anything in the first place? Why can’t I ever keep my mouth closed around him? Why – 

_isn’t he locked up in a back room the way I told you to?_

_Shut the fuck up._

“Excuse me for trying to be nice,” Eren bites out. I give in. I laugh. Nice doesn’t exist down here. “Excuse me for being concerned. Excuse me for being curious -,” 

“You’re so naïve.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

“I’m also your boss.” I want to lie down. Not in my study, which is where I usually fall asleep, but in bed. To lie down, bury myself in sheets and pillows, and stare at the wall until either sleep or morning comes for me. 

“I wanted to have a conversation -,” 

“Well, you can’t always get what you want.” 

“Damnit, stop cutting me off!” 

I sigh and lean back against the wall. “Go to your room, kid. It’s past your bedtime.” 

My words aren’t… not unforgivable, exactly, but pointed enough to hurt. Eren withdrawals. 

“Okay, fine.” Eren strides up the stairway. “Good night, Levi.” He adds tightly. 

I stand in the empty hall for a long time after Eren disappears. The wallpaper is peeling.

I’m such a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Cela rend plus difficile de garder les secrets de vous. Devrais-je commencer à parler espagnol plutôt?" translates to "It makes it harder to keep secrets from you. Should I start speaking Spanish instead?" Some things in here might not have translated literally, so, if you notice any mistakes, please tell me!
> 
> No updates next week, and then the week after that I'll be updating Through the Curtain. Ereri Summer Week is also coming up, so that's going to be fun. :) I'm on [ Tumblr ](http://www.lady-bluebird-luv.tumblr.com/).


	11. Foundations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A safe house, some soup, and quality bonding time that got way darker than I intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month since I've updated. Maybe more than a month. Either way, I missed the date I set for updates and I STILL haven't updated TTC like I said I would. I'm sorry. Lately it's been hard to focus on writing. Some personal stuff hit me like a brick, and I was away last week for an intensive camp with the xc team. Thankfully, I'm settling back into an routine, and I'm eager to get back to work. Thanks for putting up with the long wait.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I echo the words Levi spoke when he first saw the safe house. The two-story home is in the middle of the countryside, and, more importantly, is absolutely filthy. Levi wants us to clean it. And by us, I don’t mean him, Jean, Isabel, and me. Both of the assholes already disappeared to buy groceries, leaving Izzy and me to do the heavy lifting. 

“It’s a bit miserable,” Isabel admits. The redhead wipes off a bottle of floor cleaner with her sleeve. The basement, despite how desolate the rest of the house is, is stocked with utilities. Looking around, I see a can of what looks like roach repellent next to a container of bleach. Good. We’ll need both of them. “But unless you want spiders sleeping in your bed…” 

“Good point.” Isabel and Jean came with Levi and me for our little retreat. Farlan already cleared out of town because he had to go back to school. Levi didn’t want to leave his little sister alone in Karanse. Jean, of course, came because he has to stay with me. I’m grateful for the company – Isabel’s, not Jean’s! The car ride up to the safe house was tense after last night’s argument. Isabel was clearly confused when I claimed the back seat instead of shotgun. Thankfully, she didn’t ask.

I hope Levi doesn’t expect an apology, because he isn’t going to get one. Levi blew up at me, not the other way around. I’m happy to accept his amends if he wants to make them, but I’m not going to go crawling to Levi so he can save his pride. 

What an asshole. Just because he doesn’t like what I say, he’s going to come around and get pissy with me? Well, fine. Next time I won’t try to care about him. 

“Eren, are you okay?” Isabel asks. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You’ve been scrubbing the same spot for the past three minutes. You’re going to wear through the wall.” I wince inwardly and move to another blemish on the wall. “Yeah, I’m fine. That looked like a pretty nasty stain, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Isabel sweeps a mound of dust off of a bookshelf. “I’m not going to make you talk about if you don’t want to. Just remember that this house is going to feel a bit crowded as it is.” Don’t I know it. 

The house that emerges under the dust and grime looks like a real home. Not shinny and spotless, but lived in. Scuff marks cover the floors, and one of the two bedrooms upstairs has stick figures drawn on the wall. “Where did Levi find this place?” I ask. 

“Online.” I jump as Levi’s deep voice cuts through the room. He and Jean stride through the front door, each of them carrying a small mountain of groceries. He scans our work once, ignoring my glare. “Not bad.”

Jean, to his credit, picks up a rag and gets to work scrubbing the windows. Levi unloads the groceries. I stiffen when he brushes past me. He doesn’t react. Levi hasn’t acknowledged our argument at all. 

Jean draws another figure next to the ones already in the kid's room. "Wonderful," I tell him. "That's a great self-portrait."

"Funny, I was drawing you," Jean snarks.

"Your art skills are shit," I tell him. "Your drawing looks like it was done by a hunk of rock."

Jean bristles. "Hater."

We chase away the house's musty smell with a bottle of air freshener. When we finish, I collapse onto the couch with a contented groan. “Ow!” Levi wacks my head. “What was that for?”

“You’re filthy,” He answers sharply. “Go change and shower before you put your ass on any of the furniture.” 

When I come down from my shower, tantalizing aromas drift from the kitchen. Isabel sits in an armchair, watching Trost with a mixture of fascination and concern. “He ate a cockroach,” She tells me. “One scuttled out of the wall and he snapped it up.” 

I’m not surprised. “He eats bees sometimes, too.” I tell Isabel. 

“Eren.” Levi leans out of the kitchen. “Come here and help me prep for dinner.” I shuffle into the room. Jean sits at the table, polishing silverware, and Levi leans over a cutting board. He passes me a knife. I run my hand over the handle. From the table, Jean’s watchful gaze prickles my skin. I show him a choice hand gesture. He looks half impressed, but he rolls his eyes. 

Levi leans in and drops his voice to a low murmur. “Let’s agree to put last night behind us. If we don’t, the next few weeks are going to be very uncomfortable for everyone involved.” I grit my teeth, but I nod once. Levi moves away. 

“Chop the leeks and the potatoes,” He directs me. “The chunks should be about this size.” He holds up a wedge of starchy tuber. “I’ll prepare the water.” 

Trost wanders in and settles under the table. The dog watches us with a nonchalant expression, but he isn’t fooling me. The moment a morsel hits the floor, he’ll be more than happy to clean it up. 

Isabel leans over the counter. “Whatcha making, big bro?” 

“Soup. Potato, leek, smoked salmon, and little sisters who try to eat the ingredients before they're prepared.” Levi swats Izzy’s hand away from the fish. 

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I say. 

"Well, now you do." I roll my eyes at the answer. 

The soup is ready in no time. The sounds of eating and clinking spoons dominate the dinner table. Once we’re all finally, blissfully stuffed, Levi speaks up. “This isn’t our home,” Levi says, “and we can’t act like it is. This town is friendlier towards the Family than most of the surrounding area, but this still isn’t Karanse, where everybody knows us, is used to us, and is more or less okay with our existence. Nobody at this table talks about who they are and what they do for a living. If the neighbors approach you, be polite, but don’t tell them anything. As far as anyone is concerned, we’re here on vacation. Got it?” We all nod. “Eren, you can’t leave the house.” 

“What?” I protest. 

“I don’t like the idea either.” Levi cringes. He and I are both thinking the same thing: I’ll go crazy if I have to stay indoors. “One of the largest countries in the world has a national search for you going on as we speak, and your disappearance has highly publicized ties to my organization. Even if you aren’t seen with an Ackerman, your presence in the town is hugely problematic. If you stay inside, you’ll go undetected. We’re not in a heavily populated area. But if you go into town…” Levi doesn’t have to finish the sentence. “Kirstein.” Jean snaps to attention. “You’re Eren’s guard, but you’re also an Ackerman guard. If Eren attempts to disobey me, it’s up to you to stop him.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Is there wifi?” I ask anxiously. Please God, at the very least let there be wifi in the house!

“Yes.” My shoulders sag with relief. “Although, seeing as you don’t have any sort of device with you, I don’t know how you’ll use it.”

Oh. Right. I never found my phone after the Ackermans took me, and they never gave me a laptop or a tablet. It’s too much of a security risk. Any access to the outside world could mean freedom. I groan and slide down in my chair. 

“We’re going to spend a lot of time stuck together in this house,” Levi says. “It’s not as if the rest of us are going to go frolic in the fucking sunshine. We have to make ourselves scarce. Eren and I especially, but we should all be careful about who we let see us."

By the time we finish washing the dishes, it’s getting late. The house only has two bedrooms. Isabel gets her own since she's the only girl. That means I'm sharing with Jean, Levi, or both. Or I get the sofa, which might be preferable. In the end, Jean, being the guard, gets the couch, and Levi and I have to share the master bedroom. 

“I’m not going to share a bed with you.” I tell him immediately. Levi rolls his eyes. 

“I know. Don’t worry, you won’t have to. There’s a futon in the closet. I’ll blow it up. You can have the bed.”

“No.” Levi flashes me an exasperated look. “I’ll… No. We’ll take turns."

Levi agrees. I ask, "Who gets the bed first?"

He has the perfect solution. “Rock paper scissors.” 

**Levi ******

********

Eren wins the bed. I go back downstairs. Kirstein watches TV in the living room, a handgun within arm’s reach in case of trouble. He positioned himself well. From his spot on the couch, he faces the door and both of the room’s windows. 

********

“Don’t try to stay up all night,” I warn the guard. “Nobody needs you to be a zombie tomorrow morning.” When the ashbrown frowns, I add, “We’re all light sleepers anyways.” 

********

Kirstein nods. “May I speak freely, Sir?” 

********

“Go ahead.” 

********

“I’m not entirely comfortable with you sharing a room with Eren. It’s not that I dislike him, but he has his own goals.”

********

I consider the soldier’s words. I know Eren wants to kill Kenny. "Do you think that Eren will threaten me to get to my uncle?” 

********

“I thought about it,” Kirstein says. “I don’t think it’s likely, but…” He shrugs helplessly. “Old habits die hard.” I understand. The Families teach their members that anyone outside of the group is an enemy, or at least someone to hold with a measure of caution. They also teach that the Boss’s family should be protected at all costs. Jean’s wariness is exactly what I would expect, especially considering how long he’s lived with us. 

********

“I’m not a useful bargaining chip,” I reassure the guard. “Our Boss will always do what’s best for the Family’s interests as a whole, even if that means sacrificing me. Or anyone else. If push comes to shove, he won’t give up Eren.” 

********

Jean looks like he wants to say something else, but uncertainty overrides his mouth. “Of course, Sir. Forget I said anything.” 

********

“Not at all. I appreciate the dedication.” 

********

There’s a small room off of the downstairs bathroom that I can use as a study. My work is still in the boxes I packed them in, and I don’t want to organize them now, but I have plenty of neatly filed documents on my laptop. Sleep isn't coming any time soon, so I may as well get some work done. While I wait for the device to turn on, I look around the room. The whole house, I note, could use a fresh coat of paint – both the inside and the outside. If we’re here long enough, I might look into getting some. It’s too bad that the house is so run down. 

********

Farlan lets me know via text that he arrived in Paris safely. Armin sent me some results from his digging about the potential mole. There’s no news about Annie, which is a little troubling. I don’t want my uncle locking her away for more than a day or two. If he does, he might have something more than a basic interrogation in mind. Several other servants have been questioned, but Armin doubts that they’re responsible. Their alibis check out, and there’s no evidence to connect them to the leaks. 

********

A soft knock echoes through the room. Kirstein, or maybe Isabel. “Come in.” 

********

Soft footsteps pad over the floor. They stop right behind my chair. “Hey.” Hesitant. Eren. “What are you working on?” 

********

I ex out of the files. “I thought you went to bed.” 

********

If Eren notices oh-so-subtle dodge, he doesn’t mention it. “I thought I would fall asleep, but I couldn’t.” He sighs. “I think part of it is the unfamiliar house, but I guess I’m not ready to call it a day, either.” 

********

I grunt. I know the feeling well. “I’m going to work on freeing Mikasa." There isn’t anything about her in the local papers, but I guess Erwin is keeping her very hush-hush. Once our time is up, he’ll probably announce her arrest. "I meant what I said, about not sacrificing everyone for her sake alone, but I don’t want to leave her behind.” 

********

Eren’s breath leaves him in a whoosh. “Do you think we’ll go to war?” 

********

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Every time I think about the possibility, it ends with either the government getting involved, which would be difficult for everyone and ultimately a failure for us, or with Erwin standing down, which wouldn’t be characteristic of him.

********

“If worst does come to worst, you probably won’t be around to see it. You’ll be with your Family.” Germany will be a friendlier place for Eren than France, at least as long as my uncle's new territory satisfies him. 

********

I wouldn’t be surprised if the Jägers try to get information about us from Eren. After all, he’ll have lived with us for several months. It would be the smart strategical decision. Unfortunately for them, I’ve kept Eren out of the know. It’s going to stay that way. 

********

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Eren says, a little miserably. “I definitely don’t want anyone to get killed.” 

********

“Me neither,” I say, “but that isn’t how the world works.”

********

Eren huffs. “It should be.” A gleam dances in his eye. “Next time I find a shooting star? That’s what I’m wishing for. A world without needless violence.”

********

I snort. “You aren’t supposed to talk about what you wish for, idiot.”

********

“That’s after you wish for it. Does the rule apply when you haven’t made the wish yet?” I shake my head, bemused. 

********

“It isn’t possible either way. The world is too big for everyone to get along.” 

********

My words don’t smother the hope burning in Eren’s eyes. “I’m not asking for immediate change. I know it’ll take time. But even if one person at a time changes, that will be enough.” 

********

“There will always be things that are wrong and illegal, and there will always be markets for those things. Even if it gets to the point where the only reason there is a market is precisely because the products are somehow wrong. That’s the nature of humankind. We are capable of morality, and we are capable of evil. We all tend practice both, whether we mean to or not.” 

********

Eren takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I think… I’m starting to understand that.” A jumble of emotions spins through me. Surprise. I didn’t think Eren would ever say those words. Exasperation. It’s about damn time. Relief. Hope. He should have learned that lesson long ago. Eren looks down at his hands. “I’ll be okay with not everyone being good as long as they don’t cause harm to anyone else. I don’t want a perfect world.” Eren looks up, his eyes burning with determination. “I just want a happy one.” 

********

When Eren makes crazy statements, I almost believe them. 

********

**Eren ******

************ ** **

“You better get cracking,” Levi says, “That’s a big goal.”

************ ** **

I smile despite myself. “I’ve actually been thinking a lot about what I’m going to do once I go to the Jägers,” I say. I’ve thought a lot about the Family in general, but I don’t want to bring up every thought that has crossed my mind. “As the boss’s son, I’m also his heir, right?”

************ ** **

“That’s usually how it works,” Levi agrees. “Your situation is a bit unique, though. You’re removed from the Jägers. It’s possible that your father has another successor. He might have designated one of his executives to take over. Children are the default heirs because the boss is their parent. They're also unlikely to off their own mom or dad for power's sake.” 

************ ** **

“Well, assuming that I am his heir, I don’t want the Family to stay a Family,” I say. “I want to disband it. Legalize it. I want to help people. I don’t want to rule a criminal empire, and I don’t want it to shadow me for the rest of my life.”

************ ** **

Levi is silent for a long moment. “That’s not an idea I would share with your father,” He says. 

************ ** **

I laugh. “I know.” 

************ ** **

“It’s not bad,” Levi decides. “As far as long-term plans go, it’s a good one. It just needs to get fleshed out a little more. Any time you want help, I’ll give you it.” Giddy warmth bubbles in my chest. 

************ ** **

“Okay.” Levi’s laptop gives off a pale glow. It fills the bags under his eyes and the hollows of his cheeks. “I’ll, um, let you work.” Levi grunts. I reach for the door handle, but a thought pulls me back at the last minute. “Levi?” I ask. “Are you Kenny’s heir?” 

************ ** **

“It wouldn’t be anybody else.” 

************ ** **

Out in the living room, Jean watches TV. Soft French drifts through the room. I know the ashbrown’s been up since five, but he still looks wide awake. I sink down onto the opposite end of the couch. “I never imagined you as a rom-com guy.” At least I think he’s watching a rom-com. I can only catch a few words here and there, so I have to go off of the scene and facial expressions. 

************ ** **

“Funny, I never imagined you as a guy who would have a problem with it.” Jean shoots back. I roll my eyes.

************ ** **

“I don’t. Jeez.” I yawn. Jean’s watching me out of the corner of his eye.

************ ** **

“I don’t like you sharing a room with Mr. Ackerman,” He tells me. “And I don’t entirely trust you not to try something when he’s asleep. You should know that.” Pause. "It isn't personal." 

************ ** **

“I know.” There’s a gun on the sofa, and it’s easily within Jean’s reach. 

************ ** **

On screen, a woman struggles to open her umbrella. As it fans open, a strong wind snatches it away. It spirals across a drenched street and knocks against a man as he exists a café. The man stumbles, grasping for the umbrella. The woman runs up to him and, out of breath, reaches out to take the umbrella. She apologizes. Their eyes meet, and then widen. Music swells in the background. Jean groans. 

************ ** **

“This is cheesy as hell,” I mutter. The guard nods. He changes the channel to rapid-fire late night news. 

************ ** **

“We’re training tomorrow,” I tell Jean. 

************ ** **

“The two of us?”

************ ** **

“Uh-huh.”

************ ** **

“Fine." He grins. "I’ll kick your ass.”

************ ** **

I bare my teeth at him. “Not if I kick yours first.” 

************ ** **

Jean tries to hide it, but I see how his eyes wander and his neck droops. My own eyelids feel heavy. I want to burrow down into the soft couch and sleep. The voices on the TV sound tinny and far away. 

************ ** **

Jean sighs. “We have two days until the shit hits the fan, and I’m stuck here with a fourteen-year-old, my boss, and you.”

************ ** **

“Gee, thanks.” My voice sounds slurred, even to me. “This isn’t ideal for me either, you know.”

************ ** **

“It isn’t ideal for anyone, idiot,” Jean says. “If I had my way, I would be back home with my friends and boyfriend while somebody else has this job. I’d even be okay with seeing my Mom, even though I know she’d never shut up and leave me alone.” 

************ ** **

My chest feels hollow. “Hey, give your mom a break.”

************ ** **

“You don’t know her, man.”

************ ** **

I shake my head. “Do you ever want to turn back the clock? Go back in time and redo your life?”

************ ** **

“Sometimes,” Jean admits. “I think everyone feels that way at one point or another. I can think of a dozen times I want to slap past me across the face and ask him what the hell he’s thinking.” 

************ ** **

A laugh bubbles up inside me. “Yeah, me too. Do you ever have moments when you remember something embarrassing that you’ve forgotten up until that point?”

************ ** **

“And it’s something that happened years ago, but someone might still remember it?” Jean grins. “Yeah, I have plenty of those too.” The guard’s smile fades, and his expression becomes thoughtful. “You know what I miss? When I was starting out, I was pretty close with Bertholdt and Reiner.”

************ ** **

“The beanstalk and the bull from last night?”

************ ** **

Jean laughs. “That’s one way to describe them, yeah. We shared an apartment in Lyon for a couple of years. Reiner worked as an enforcer, and Bert and I did odd jobs for the Family. Nothing high-paying, but safe work. Scouting areas, messenger work - things like that. It wasn’t always sunshine and roses, but we always pulled through. We got lucky.” Jean’s expression darkens. “I have a lot of friends who got really hurt, or killed. Everyone’s lost someone, even people like Connie and Sasha.” My eyes widen. Jean chuckles. “I know, right? They’re both pretty sunny people. Turns out they’ve seen some shit, too. Ask them about their families next time you see them.” 

************ ** **

Jean has a far away look in his eyes. “I’d like to have everyone back and safe. I miss the camaraderie we had. Times were tough, but we looked out for each other, you know? Whatever happened, we faced it together. We weren’t always happy, but we were strong and united. Now that we’ve all scattered, we’ve lost unity. We’ve all been swallowed up by the Family, and we aren’t much of a team anymore. I thought things would be better at the top, but it turns out that they aren’t, not always.” 

************ ** **

“I’m glad to work at the house,” Jean says, “because I haven’t seen Connie and Sasha for a long, long time. But they’re only a piece of our little group. As for Reiner and Bertholdt…” Jean shakes his head. “I don’t see much of them now that they’re executives. I’m happy for them, but it’s too bad. They were good guys. I don’t know how the hell they were able to move up the ranks so quickly and I didn’t, even though we all did about the same level and amount of work. I know Reiner is loyal to the point of being a kissass, so maybe that has something to do with it. Bertholdt is a pretty good sharpshooter, too." 

************ ** **

“Did you get a chance to talk to them last night?”

************ ** **

“No.” Jean shrugs, a jerky movement. “It’s fine. They’re probably busy.” 

************ ** **

“Maybe.” I mute the TV. “You know, my mom spent a lot of time being afraid of the Families. I always thought she was paranoid. I knew that the mafia was dangerous, but I never felt like they were dangerous to us. We were two people on the other side of the ocean. A single, immigrant woman and her kid. Not a lot of people cared about people like us.” 

************ ** **

“Times were tough for a while.” I was tiny back then. Everything is either blank or a blur of shape and noise, but I remember the damp smell of moldy wallpaper and a flickering light. “Once Mom learned English and got a steady job, we did alright. I don’t know how she managed before that. I never worked up the courage to ask.” 

************ ** **

“She worked really, really hard.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I should have given her more back. Taken her more seriously. I should have taken care of her as much as she took care of me.”

************ ** **

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Jean says. 

************ ** **

“I know.” That’s the cruelest part. “It would make me feel a lot better, though.” 

************ ** **

We sit in silence, both deep in thought. 

************ ** **

“You’re all right, Jäger,” Jean says. 

************ ** **

I turn to stare at him. Jean gazes out the window, not catching my eye. “Thanks?”

************ ** **

Jean snorts. “You’re welcome. It’s a good thing.” He turns off the TV and fixes me with a glare. “Now get out of my room. I want to sleep.” 

************ ** **

Tonight, I dream of cloudy red and a glittering, diamond star.

************ ** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was very, very tempting to make the boys share a bed, but I think it would be OOC and a bit forced. It's definitely a nice image, though. It reminded me of all the treats I have in store for once this ship finally sails. :).


	12. Broker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting, a discovery, and an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty happy with how this chapter came out, and I hope you guys are too. Another big thank you for all the support and lovely comments - I don't say it enough, you guys are incredible. The comments and kudos you leave mean so much to me, and the encouragement is a big reason why I continue to write this fic.

**Hamburg, Germany. 11:23 PM.**

Three men sit in an apartment overlooking the Hafen. Most of the tourist boats and water taxis are gone, and the shipyards are silent in the dark. Through the floor-to-ceiling window, Cranes loom like titanic skeletons. 

The men are here to discuss an unsurprising, though unexpected, piece of correspondence. 

“Hat Herr Ackerman erklärt, warum er mit un treffen will?” _(Did Mr. Ackerman explain why he wants to meet with us?)_ The first man asks. 

The second man takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Herr Kenny hat gesagt, dass er etwas hat, was wir wollen.” 

(Mr. Kenny said he has something that we want.)

The third man snorts. “Das ist sehr klar.” _(That's very clear.)_

The first man grunts in agreement. He’s surprised that Kenny hasn’t contacted him until now. The old Frenchman has always been ambitious, perhaps even greedy. He isn’t sure what the Ackermans are after, but when he’s contacted out of the blue after such a long period of quiet… well, it piques his interest at the very least. 

“Ich möchte mich mit Herr Ackerman treffen.” The first man decides. _(I would like to meet with Mr. Ackerman.)_ The second man flashes the first a glance. He knows better than to argue with his superior in front of others, but his look conveys all his skepticism. “Vielleicht,” the family head elaborates, “hat er wirklich etwas, was wir wollen.” _(Maybe he truly does have something we want.)_ The second man grunts. 

“Ich werde die Anordnung machen.” The third man says. _(I will make the arrangements.)_ His boss nods and sends him out the door with a quick gesture. Once they’re alone, the first and second men turn to a different topic. 

“Die Ackermans haben Schwierigkeiten in Frankreich,” The second man says. _(The Ackermans have difficulties in France.)_ The first man chuckles. 

“Ja, natürlich,” _(Yes, of course.)_ Considering that they put a thug in charge, it isn’t at all surprising. The Ackerman family is young, and considering what it’s leadership looks like, it’s doomed to fail. 

“Abominations,” The second man says darkly. The first man releases a noncommittal grunt. He doesn’t hold quite the same view, but it’s understandable. The Ackermans are upstarts. They aren’t meant to be powerful, let alone have a Family. The second man is firmly rooted in the old ways of thinking. According to his views, bloodlines are key and Family is sacred. 

That’s one worldview. The first man’s experiences suggest otherwise. The first man rises and crosses over to the window, watching the docks and water underneath him. The sea isn’t far away from this place. 

The second man puts out his cigarette and moves to leave the apartment. “Ist gebongt?” He asks, meaning whether or not the meeting with the French is wholly decided. “Ja,” The first man says, still slightly distracted. “Ist gebongt.” 

**Eren**

I groan into the carpet of Levi’s study. “Are you sure I can’t leave the house?” I ask. 

The raven glares at me over his laptop. “Eren, go bother someone else.” 

“Can I walk Trost later?” I ask hopefully. 

“Isabel and Jean can walk Trost,” Levi counters. “How are you already bored?” 

I make a face. “Gee, I don’t know. It can’t possibly be because I’m trapped in a house with a man in love with email and a bunch of bugs.” Isabel wanted to go into town, so Jean went with her. The guard wanted to stay with Levi and me, since we’re objectively more valuable, but Levi insisted that he go to keep the girl safe. 

Levi shoots me a flower-withering stare. “For your sake, Jäger, there better not be any insects in this house.” 

“Well I don’t know if there are bugs anymore,” I amend. “Trost probably ate all of them.” Levi shakes his head in exasperation. 

“Didn’t Armin give you something to work on while you were away?” Levi asks. 

“Uh-huh,” I respond. 

“Did you finish it?” 

“I finished some of it.” 

“Eren,” Levi chides. 

“I’m not doing all that work in one day.” I miss being in class. It’s so much more engaging than being taught by a sixteen-year-old in an empty room. 

Levi sighs. “I wonder if this tutor plan is working,” He says, half to himself. I frown. “Not because of you,” Levi says. “It’s not the best approach to your education.” 

“Yeah, it would be nice to go back to school.” I say drily. Except, oh wait, I can’t. 

“I know.” Levi’s tone is more weary than irritated. “I’m sorry.” The next look he sends me is speculative, and I bristle. “What?” 

“Nothing.” He turns back to the computer screen. “Just thinking. We might be able to figure something else out.” 

I close my eyes and relax into the carpet. I contemplate watching TV. Armin would probably applaud it as a way to practice my French. I don’t want to, though. It’s weird to stare at the screen when everything on it is so far removed from my own reality. 

The only thing left to do is think. Thinking, at least for me, hasn’t led to good places recently. My memories, both good and bad, are torturous. I’ve had good times. They’re gone, violently. I’ve had other good times, more recently, that scare the hell out of me to think about. I joked with a bunch of criminals on a shooting range. I sit in a kitchen and eat their food not when it’s the bare minimum necessary for life, but when I’m hungry after being taught. By criminals. I like a lot of those criminals and monsters and that revolts me. At the same time, a part of me doesn’t give a shit. Yeah, I like being around some people who just happen to be gangsters. 

Even if I block out those happy little struggles, there’s still the future to worry about. We have one more day until Erwin’s deadline is up. The knowledge makes a rock settle in my stomach. 

I slink out of the study and wander through the house. Levi already made both of the beds in our room, but I flop down on the big bed anyways. I’ll fix the sheets if they get too wrinkled. 

Levi doesn’t get much sleep. At least, he didn’t last night. I was sound asleep by the time he came back to our room, and he was already gone when I woke up in the morning. Maybe it was just last night, but I hope he takes care of himself. The Family has been under a lot of stress lately, and Levi can’t afford to wear himself out. 

When I look at the ceiling for long enough, something catches my eye. There’s a scratch in the paint. No, wait. I sit up. That’s not a scratch. I climb up to get a closer look. There’s a line in the paint. A groove in the ceiling. Either it’s a really big crack, in which case I dearly hope the plaster doesn’t come crashing down, or there’s something there. When I follow the groove, I trace a square outline in the ceiling. My hand finds a ring in the wood, and I hook my fingers into it. Why didn’t I find this last night? Was it hidden in the dark? 

I grasp the ring and slowly, slowly pull down. For a minute, nothing happens. I think I’ve just found a little design fluke. Then the wood gives way with a creak and swings down. Some unfolding stairs and a pile of dust cascade down into the room. 

I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart. It’s a trapdoor. I found a fucking trapdoor! According to movies, that means that I’m going to find either (a) a horrible monster or (b) hidden treasure. I would go for either one at this point. 

The stairs creak, but they hold my weight. All I can see is inky darkness. I hurry down and to the kitchen, grab a flashlight from a drawer, and rush back upstairs. When I turn the light on, the first thing I notice is the dust. This place is like a dust bunny orgy, big grey mounds on top of each other and tangled together. The second thing I notice is the lightbulb, which is good because now I can see the whole room at once. The third thing I notice are the boxes and boxes of clothes and toys stacked among silverware, lamps, and a little space heater. Most of the clothing is women’s – dresses and sunhats and some slippers. There’s a lot of children’s clothing, too. Most of it is boy’s, but there’s some baby clothing that looks like it’s meant for girls, too. The other boxes have teething rings and wooden blocks alongside animals and a soft teddy bear. There are also plenty of books. I see picture books, novels, and magazines in French, English, and a little bit of German. The novels’ pages are a bit ragged, and their spines are creased and worn. They’re old and well-loved. _Harry Potter_ shares a box with _Der Besuch Der Alten Damen._ I don't recognize the French titles: _Syngué Sabor: La Pierre de Patience. Le Testament Français. Texaco. Terre des Hommes._ They look much more complicated than my current level of French allows me to read, but I bet I can get through them if I really try. 

Footsteps clunk up the stairs behind me. “Eren, what the hell are you doing?” 

Levi’s voice makes me jump. I grin. “I found this place. It looks like there’s a lot of neat old stuff up here.” When I turn and face Levi, my smile fades. Even in the dim light, Levi’s skin is as pale as the hands gripping the stairs. He focuses on the trove of discoveries. 

“I should have known you’d come up here.” I blink. 

“You knew about it?” If Levi knew about this place, it should be vacuumed, sterilized, and organized by now. The floor is covered in scraps of broken pottery, and I don’t think Levi would leave something so potentially dangerous unattended. 

Levi presses his lips into a thin line. “Of course.” His gaze travels around the room. “It’s my Family’s house, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…” 

Levi’s eyes drop to the book in my hand. He raises one eyebrow. “La Pierre de Patience. The Patience Stone. That’s an excellent novel. If you want to read it, go ahead.” Pause. “Take anything you want to use downstairs with you. Then close the attic up.” It seems somehow wrong to leave the attic behind when it’s new to me. I’m granted a window into someone’s life, and I want to explore it. I open my mouth to protest. “It’s dangerous.” Levi pushes. “If Trost got up here, he could get cut up on all this trash.” He indicates the shards on the floor. “I don’t know how stable all the towering boxes are. There could be fucking bats in the rafters.” 

“All right.” There’s a flat quality in his voice that both makes me uncomfortable and immediately gives him away. 

I gather some of the books, and Levi closes the attic behind me. I wipe some fallen dust off the bed. For the rest of the night, the trapdoor’s outline is unavoidable on the ceiling. Just like last night, Levi doesn’t go to bed until after I fall asleep. I lie awake for what feels like hours and stare up at the seam of the trapdoor from my spot on the air mattress. 

I don’t want to intrude on a place that clearly makes Levi so uncomfortable, because I don’t want him to be upset. I don’t care that the attic makes Levi uncomfortable, because his opinion doesn’t matter. I want to explore the attic. I want to let it rest. These thoughts chase each other around and around in my head until I feel like a spinning top. My usual nightmares don’t wait for me in sleep’s velvet – padded halls, but a different conflict replaces them. 

I like to think that I’m a fairly disciplined person. But there are also some things that throw my control completely out of the window. 

**Mikasa**

A single, bright light shines down into my eyes. I resist the urge to flinch. My wrists are cuffed to my chair, arms twisted behind my back, and the awkward angle makes my shoulders ache. There’s a steadily growing pressure behind my eyelids. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Sleep deprivation is a good interrogation tactic. 

The police searched me before throwing me in my cell – one I have to myself, thankfully. They found my hidden weapons, which I expected, but they also took my clothes. Right now, I’m wearing a prisoner’s uniform. They took my scarf. I made them fight for it. 

The heavy door opens and shuts behind me. Footsteps approach. A tall, unfamiliar man enters my field of vision and sits cross-legged in the chair across from me. There’s no table between us. 

“Mademoiselle Mikasa Ackerman.” I don’t reply. 

“Née le 10 février 1997. Lieu de naissance, Hambourg, Allemagne. Vos parents sont morts en 1999 et vous habitez actuellement avec votre cousin, votre oncle et votre tante. Est-ce correct?” _(Born February 10, 1997. Place of birth, Hamburg, Germany. Your parents died in 1999 and you currently live with your cousin, your uncle, and your aunt. Is that correct?)_

I stay silent. The police can ask whatever they want. They already know what’s true, at least for the most part. They just need me to admit it. Unfortunately for them, I have no plans to cooperate. 

The guard purses his lips. “Vous êtes accusée d'être responsable de vingt-trois agressions, ainsi que d'une tentative de meurtre sur un agent de police. Par ailleurs, nous pensons pouvoir relier à vous cinq autres assassinats. Il est dans votre intérêt de coopérer.” _(You are charged with twenty-three counts of assault and one attempted murder of a police officer. There are an additional five counts of murder that we believe we can connect to you. It is in your best interest to cooperate.)_

I watch the guard coolly. Either he’s not experienced or he’s not very good at his job, because he’s starting to lose his patience. Anger burns in his eyes, and his cheeks flush. We haven’t even been here for five minutes. Idiot. 

“Nous avons des moyens pour vous faire parler, Mademoiselle. Personne ne sait où vous êtes. Personne ne viendra pour vous. Vous n'avez aucun pouvoir, et nous voulez quelque chose de vous. Pensez à ce que cela signifie,” He warns. _(We have ways of making you talk, miss. Nobody knows where you are. Nobody is coming for you. You have no power, and we want something from you. Think about what that means.)_

Yes, he's a big, scary agent of the state. I've dealt with worse – and not because he’s a policeman, an agent of justice, and I deal with criminals. The really dangerous people, at least in my experience, are the ones that keep their cool. In any case, he can do whatever he wants. I won’t talk. 

The guard’s eyes narrow to slits. “Nous utiliserons la force si nécessaire.” _(We will use force if necessary.)_

A group of Russians once made the same threat. I’m still here, and they aren’t. 

The man stews for a few minutes longer before he rises and leaves in a huff. He leaves his files propped up on his chair. Behind me, the door slams shut behind him. 

I don’t know how much time passes before the door opens again. A new set of feet walks in. These are smooth, measured strides. “Rebonjour, Mikasa.” _(Hello again, Mikasa.)_

If it isn’t Erwin Smith himself. The blonde smiles at me and settles down in the chair. “Mes excuses pour la gêne occasionnée. Tous ces hommes sont des bouffons.” _(My apologies for the inconvenience. All of these men are clowns.)_ His smile fades, and he leans forwards in his seat. “Passons les formalités. Vous êtes dans une position délicate, Mikasa. Vous pourriez écoper entre 30 ans et perpétuité, et vous serez facilement reconnue coupable. Il existe beaucoup de preuves contre vous. Vous irez en prison.” _(Let's skip the formalities. You're in trouble, Mikasa. You could get thirty years to life, and it will be easy to convict you. There's plenty of evidence against you. You will go to prison.)_

“C'est malheureux.” _(That’s unfortunate.)_ I respond. Erwin chuckles. 

“En effet.” _(Indeed.)_

“Bien évidemment, votre organisme aura également à affronter le courroux de la justice.” _(Of course, your organization will also face the wrath of the law.)_

My heart skips a beat. “Pardon?” 

“Nous allons démanteler le milieu dans quelques jours. Vos alliés présents dans le système juridique ne pourront pas vous aider.” _(We will dismantle the mafia in a few days. Your friends in the legal system can’t help them.)_

Erwin has to be lying. “C'est un objectif ambitieux,” I say, trying to keep my tone steady. _(That’s an ambitious goal.)_

“C'est gérable,” He responds. “La police s'en occupe en ce moment-même.” _(It’s manageable. The police are working right now.) (I wanted to say “even as we speak”, but that also doesn’t translate well.)_

Erwin leans in closer. “I’m going to be perfectly honest with you, Mikasa,” He says, switching to English. “The Ackermans will be done for whether or not you cooperate with us. As for your own case, we don’t need a confession to sentence you. The case is pretty clear-cut.” Erwin begins to speak more quickly. “That doesn’t mean your cooperation can’t make a difference. I don’t want to fight with the Ackermans. You’re an insider. With your help, we can apprehend top leadership without a fight.” Erwin’s poker face is perfect, I’ll give him that. “You’re asking me to turn traitor.” Erwin nods. “Why do you think I would agree? Are you offering to release me if I help you? I’m still not interested.” 

“Oh, no. I have no plans to release you.” Erwin taps the file in his hand. “On top of the charges we already have against you, there are another dozen or so cases I think I can trace to you. The disappearance of a certain businessman in Nice two years ago, for example.” 

I scowl at the officer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I don’t have enough evidence for a court,” Erwin says, “but I have enough to be fairly certain it was you.” 

“What’s your point?” I demand. 

“You’re too dangerous to release. Doing so would be a bad decision in the long term. I will not trade your freedom for any degree of help. However, that doesn’t mean you can’t buy someone else’s freedom.” 

It takes me a moment to process what he’s suggesting. “Think about it, Mikasa,” Erwin’s voice turns gentle. “This is the end of the line for you, so to speak. You’re going to sit in court while the government finally subdues your Family. You and I both know that they can’t win the fight they’re facing. There’s going to be a lot of pointless, needless loss on both sides. People you care about are going to get hurt. A lot of them are going to die.” 

“If you help us, we can protect the people you love. I’ll look into it personally. Just help us, and then you can give me some names. We’ll get them out of the country. I’ll wipe their records, clear them of suspicion – whatever it takes. Just tell me. Is there any family you want to keep safe?” I flash him a dubious look. Erwin chuckles. 

“Well, maybe not family, but friends? A significant other? Multiple significant others? It doesn’t matter. I’ll help them. If there’s anything you want them to have, any of their problems you want me to take care of, I’ll make sure it’s done.” 

“You’ll never be free again, but that doesn’t mean that they have to face the same fate.” 

I beat back my shock. “Does the government know you’re offering me this?” 

Erwin smiles thinly. “Whether or not they know doesn’t concern me.” No, then. Interesting. I guess if his superiors confronted him about making a deal with a prisoner, he could just say he lied to gain my trust. He’s probably doing just that. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I ask. Erwin nods like he expected the question. 

“You don’t,” Erwin admits. “You just have to believe me.” I snort. His next question kills any disparaging comment I might make. “If you bet that I’m lying, are you willing to pay with your loved ones?” 

I’m betting with lives either way. If I decide Erwin is lying, I risk people I care about getting hurt. If his offer is genuine, I’ll avoid hurting people I care about, but lots of other people will still get hurt and I’ll be a traitor. 

More importantly, is there anyone I would lie, cheat, and betray for? Levi is too high up in the Family to slip through the law’s grasp. Then again, Erwin did say he’d help anyone. Are Isabel and Farlan in danger? They’re both innocent, but they’ll still probably get slapped with cuffs if the cops can prove they knew about the Family. Isabel is fourteen, but age never stopped the police before. Miss Ackerman? I don’t think the police can prove she knows anything. Still, what will she do if the Family goes down? I know she doesn’t have anyone else that she can turn to for help. She could revert to what she did last time the Family turned its back on her. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. With her current health, she needs good doctors. Sasha and Connie need protection, too. Without the Ackermans, a lot of very nasty people will be out for Sasha’s blood. She knows a lot of secrets. Connie, being the loyal dog that he is, will stick with her. Annie’s in hot water with the boss, and maybe it would be better if she got out from under him. If I help Erwin, Kenny could disappear fairly quickly. Although I don’t know exactly what she did or didn’t do, so that complicates things. And, of course, there’s Carla’s boy. His father’s family isn’t going to be better for him than the Ackermans. It would be better if he went back to America altogether. 

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I have a lot to lose. I’m not necessarily close with many people, but there are a lot of people I care about, and my decision could change their lives forever. I have a huge amount of power. It’s terrifying. 

Erwin waits patiently while I debate my decision. I don’t want to turn traitor. The Family has done a lot for me, and I don’t want to throw it in its face. 

Or maybe it’s people who happen to be a part of the Family who have helped me, and not the organization itself. I would love to see Kenny go down. Maybe it’s better for everyone if I do help Erwin. 

“You don’t have to decide now,” Erwin tells me smoothly. “I know it must be a lot to take in at once.” Erwin smiles. “I’m asking you for a lot, Mikasa.” He tucks my file under his arm. “I’m also offering you a lot.” Erwin’s eyes are bright, icy blue. Genuine warmth glows in them. 

Those eyes are part of the reason I make my decision. 

“You don’t need to wait.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve already decided.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't started writing the next chapter yet, but I have my outline for it and I know how it's going to start. I know I've said many times that I want to update weekly, but I also know that hasn't always been the case. Generally, I post update dates on my tumblr once they're concrete.
> 
> I really enjoy adding French/German, but I know it isn't completely necessary and it makes things harder to read. Do you think this is a bit too self-indulgent, or no?


	13. Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Politics, cats, and fighting (Oh my).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been terrible about updating. Between school and the competition season, I'm so busy that it gets hard to sit down and have quiet time to write. I've been really stressed and not in a good place emotionally recently, especially last week, but things are clearing up and I feel a lot better. This chapter feels rougher than I want it to, but I don't know if it's getting any better than it is. There also might be a few typos, but I'm dead on my feet. I'll catch them tomorrow. Thanks for sticking around. :)

**Levi**

“Kenny diverted all the group’s funds to wartime efforts.” Rustling papers punctuate Armin’s voice. 

“I know. He told me himself.” My uncle rarely says anything to me at all, but he makes appearances for serious matters. In brief, two-minute calls. Not that I’m complaining. We don’t have much to say to one another. “He’s moving too quickly. We’re not fighting yet. We don’t even know if we will be any time soon.” According to Armin’s reports, the police have been working as usual. 

“He’s being extremely careful,” Armin says. Tactful as always. Kenny’s being paranoid. “Actually, I have some new information about Erwin’s movements.” 

“Oh?” I lean back in my chair. “What’s happening?” 

“Last night, Erwin had a meeting with some top government officials. Minister of the Interior Dot Pixis and Minister of the Armed Services Darius Zackly were present. There’s also good evidence that the Minister of Justice attended.” 

“Do you know what they talked about?” I ask. 

“Unfortunately, no,” Armin says, frustrated. “It was behind closed doors and very hush-hush. Additionally – I hesitate to say this, because it’s a rumor, - but there’s some talk that Mikasa went with Erwin.” 

“What?” Alarm and surprise wash over me. Did I hear that right? 

“There’s some security footage that seems to show a woman walking with Smith into the meeting. If she isn’t Mikasa, she's a perfect body double. I’ll send the videos to you.” 

The possibility of Mikasa meeting with the government is bizarre to say the least. She isn’t colluding with them. It wouldn’t make sense. She’s worked for the Family too much to turn her back on them. Even if the government gives her amnesty, she’s too conspicuous in the underworld. If she tries to live a normal life, she’ll either be recruited a second time or killed. 

The camera footage Armin sends me shows Erwin and a lithe Asian woman in a pantsuit walking down a hall. The camera doesn’t get a good shot of her face, but she has Mikasa’s short hair and graceful stride. It’s hard to judge height from this angle, but this woman has my cousin’s build. “Is that a scarf around her neck?” I ask Armin. 

“Yes,” He says grimly. The scarf is red. 

I don’t understand. “Is he showing her off?” I muse. “Is Erwin proving to the government that he can hunt down the Family?” 

“She isn't restrained," Armin answers. Mikasa’s hands hang at her sides, not behind her back. I massage my temples. Fuck. 

“Have you told the boss about this?” I ask. 

“Not yet,” Armin admits. I frown. 

“Arlert. You know the rules.” 

“My apologies, Sir. I thought it was best to inform you first.” I frown. 

“You’re high enough up to talk directly to the Boss. He gave you that privilege for a reason.” It’s standard to let information creep up through the Family hierarchy – Soldiers to team leaders, leaders to executives, execs to underboss, and then underboss to boss. Kenny only makes an exception for Armin. He doesn't want to risk getting corrupted information. 

For a long moment, Armin’s breath is the only sound coming over the line. “I’ll inform him right away. If I may ask, Sir, do you want me to inform the boss in full?” Armin speaks carefully, tasting each word before handing them to me. “If you like, I can omit Mikasa’s involvement.” 

Omission is as bad as lying, and lying to a Family head is asking for a bullet in the brain. If you’re caught. Or, in my case, a bullet in someone else’s brain. “Make your own call, Arlert. I don't want to hear any more about it." 

“Yes, Sir.” Armin understands. My response isn’t an outright order, so it’s dubious, but I’m not sure I can give the blonde a concrete answer. 

I end the call and move into the kitchen for some afternoon tea. It feels good to leave my study and stretch my legs. I'd love to wander around the nearby woods, or even to just head into town. Unfortunately, this town knows my family too well for me to be able to keep a low profile. For now, I’m confined to the house and backyard. 

I can’t wait to leave this place. 

**Eren**

The knock on the door comes in the middle of dinner. The sound echoes like a gunshot, and conversation at the table falls silent. A shout comes through, but it’s unintelligible from our spot in the kitchen. 

Levi and Jean both go rigid. “Are you expecting anyone?” I ask. 

Levi shakes his head. Jean rises, weapon in hand. “I’ll see who it is,” He says lowly. 

“I’ll take Eren and Isabel,” Levi says. 

My heart pounds with a mixture of fear and hope. Everything depends on what’s on the other side of the door. Next to me, Isabel’s face is solemn and her eyes bright and rigid. 

A second knock sounds. Jean reaches for the doorknob with one hand. The other cocks a gun. 

Another vocalization comes through the door. This one is clear. “Levi, you butt, open up! Do you want me to make a scene in front of your neighbors?’ 

The voice is unmistakable. Levi swears viciously. He rips the door open. Sure enough, a certain ponytailed, soon to be dead brunette stands on the doorstep. She's lucky that the cat crate clutched to her chest doubles as a barrier between her and the Captain. 

“Kirstein almost shot you, you idiot,” Levi seethes. Behind him, I let out my breath. “What the hell are you doing here?” Hange pushes past him into the house. 

“I thought it would be a good idea to come up and visit you,” She explains. “Hi, Eren! Hi, Isabel! You too, Jean. Besides, Corporal was inconsolable when you left.” She pats the side of the crate. “He stopped eating, and nobody could touch him. I almost bleed out trying to get him into the crate.” Hange’s hand resembles a gauze mitten. 

“Did you put out cat food? Corporal never eats cat food. Take of your goddamn shoes, Hange.” We follow Hange down the hall. “And I’m the only person who can touch my cat, Hange.” 

“Exactly.” The doctor jabs a finger at Levi. “Corporal misses his papa.” Hange sets the crate down on the living room floor. “Poor guy, cooped up in my car all day,” She coos. “You must be dying to stretch your legs.” 

“The cat isn't the only thing that's going to be dying,” Levi mutters. 

“Pffft. You love me.” 

A bark breaks through the room. Skittering paws announce Trost before the rotweiller makes an entrance. The dog approaches the pet crate without fear and sniffs at the entrance. His fluffy tail weaves through the air. Levi stiffens. 

No cat emerges from the crate. “Hange, what did you do to my cat? Is he alive?” Levi swats her away from the crate. “Don’t touch him! You've already caused enough damage. I’ll let him out.” 

I’m not sure what I expect to emerge from the crate, but it’s not the furry beast that slinks out onto the carpet. Even Trost pauses before approaching Corporal. 

I’m not sure if he’s the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen or the most ridiculously huggable. Corporal is squat with stubby legs and a round body. Patches of bare skin cover a long, crooked tail, and his facial features look like a dent in his head. Puffy black fur sticks up in all directions. He’s like a ratty, furry bowling ball. 

Trost sinks down onto his paws and stares intently at Corporal for a few seconds. Corporal stares right back. Trost tentatively runs a tongue down the cat’s face. 

Corporal gives a disgruntled murp and waddles away. 

“Awww!” Hange beams. “Corporal made a new friend!” 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Levi scoops the cat up. “Corporal hates dogs. Keep your beast away from mine, Eren, or both you and the animal are sleeping outside.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Trost wags his tail. “I’ll do my best.” 

“At least you had the good sense to bring some cat food with you,” Levi mutters to Hange over diner. 

“He isn’t eating it,” I note. The cat lounges by the food bowl, staring into it. Trost is eyeing the bowl, too. I bump him with my food. “Stop it, boy. You had yours.” 

“He likes to hunt his own meals,” Levi says. 

“I used to have a parakeet,” Isabel says softly. “I liked to let it fly around my room. Corporal ate it.” 

Suddenly, the chicken seems a bit less appetizing. 

“I got some fish after that,” Isabel reminisces. “We thought Corporal wouldn’t want to get wet, but he ate them too.” 

“The fish were more our fault than Corporal’s. We should have learned our lesson the first time,” Levi says. “Aquarium water wasn’t going to stop a cat that got picked off the streets." 

“He needed a good home!” Hange protests. More seriously, she says, “I wanted to get out of Karanase for a while. It’s getting bad down there. All the executive are shacking up with the boss until everything blows over.” Hange stirs her food. “The cops aren’t talking to us, and the whole city is jumpy. Plus, everyone in this organization who’s any good is either gone or too busy to talk to me. It’s not a good work environment.” 

“Kenny will want you around when the fighting breaks out,” Levi says. 

“Probably. 

“You can stay,” Levi allows. “But you’re sleeping in the cellar.” 

“Is it heated?” 

"Maybe." 

“We have a space heater if it isn’t,” I murmur. It’s in the attic, though. 

Hange beams. “I know I can count on you guys.” Levi rolls his eyes. 

Dinner’s camaraderie fades into the background as we finish, clean up, and settle throughout the house. Isabel sits on the couch, Trost tucked under her chin. She murmurs to the dog in soft, rapid French. Jean paces the house and periodically pulls aside curtains to glance outside. Hange bangs around the house. Levi doesn’t complain. He spends long minutes leaning against the kitchen counter. His grips turns white on the granite countertop. His chest rises and falls in a deep breath before he detaches himself from the furniture and strides off to his study. 

Everyone is worried about Erwin’s deadline. Our last day is coming to a close. Looking around me, to freshly scrubbed pans and a newly crumb-free floor, I hope we’ve haven’t eaten our last meal. 

Not we, I correct myself. They. I’m not going to get hurt if Erwin decides to blow the Family to smithereens. I haven’t done anything wrong. 

_Yes you have, Eren._ A small part of me murmurs. _You stood by when the doctor died. You knew what would happen to him, and you didn’t stop it._ I couldn’t have stopped it. _You had a gun on you._ It wouldn’t have changed anything. _You don’t think that._ Yes, I do. _You could have shot at least one person in the room before the others caught you._ I could have, but one of my friends would have paid the price. _That’s selfish._ No, it isn’t! I don’t want Franz and Mina to get hurt for my choices. You’re the selfish one. You’re wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. There’s never been anything I could do. 

Doubt, frustration, and helplessness take my breath away. A small whimper escapes me before I can stifle it, and I squeeze my eyes shut. My stupid fucking head. I don’t want to think anymore. 

“Eren?” Levi has a cabinet open and a container of loose-leaf tea in one hand. “Are you alright?” Concern relaxes the steely glint in his eyes. 

“Mmmm-hmmm.” I nod my head. Levi doesn’t look convinced in the slightest. 

“Okay.” He turns to fill a tea kettle. 

“Fight with me.” Levi’s head whips around. 

“What?” 

“Fight me,” I repeat. “Please.” I’m going to explode if I don't start moving. 

“Now? It’s dark out.” 

“Good cover. Nobody’s going to see me beating the shit out of you.” I don’t focus on half the words that leave my mouth, and I feel like my brain is pressing on the inside of my skull. 

“Okay,” Levi says after a long moment. “Let me change first.” 

The grass is soft and springy under our bare feet, and the cool, nighttime autumn airs quickly reaches me through my t-shirt. It doesn’t take long to warm up, though, and soon I can feel sweat trickling down the back of my neck. My lungs burn with every swing. Levi dips under one of my blows, but I catch his next shot at my stomach. I intercept his arms and try to force him to contort, but he rams a foot into my knee. “Fuck!” I gasp. I stumble, and Levi tries to slip out of my grasp. “Oh no you don’t.” I tighten my grip and drag him down with me to the ground. On impact, all the air leaves my lungs. While I struggle to suck in an unpleasant breath, Levi yanks himself free. He wrestles me to the grass and leans over me, panting. 

“Done yet?” I shake my head. 

“Again.” 

It isn’t until our third match that I manage to make Levi yield. He doesn’t have much of a choice. I pin him to the ground by his wrists, where I can feel his pulse racing under my fingernails. He tries to kick me off, but I brace myself. Levi’s efforts to twist and roll out from under me also fail. Our sparring has been reduced to petty wrestling, but I don’t care. It feels good to be invested in something that demands all of my attention. Something that hurts, that I can focus on. Levi bares his teeth, but I don’t let him loose. We lock eyes for a long moment before he swears and goes limp. “You’re crushing me.” 

“Sorry.” I scramble off at him. He blinks up at me from the grass. 

“Do you mind telling me what this is all about?” Levi asks. Not annoyed. Not concerned. Not unkind at all. I shrug and avert my gaze. 

As the fight wears off, all my old thoughts creep back in, along with a new ache in my muscles. There's no forcing my doubts away, and no repressing them. “I’m not sure what to think about anything anymore.” 

Pause. “That's not new." 

"Including me." 

"Don't tell me you're having a moral dilemma." I scowl at him from the grass. "Look, Eren," He says. "I’ve worked with people who’ve sold their mother for the right price. I’ve also worked with a lot of people who’ve had the same thoughts. You aren't an evil person." 

"I don't think I'm evil," I snap, frustrated. "I don't think I'm very good." 

"I thought we agreed nobody is that black and white." Pause. Levi sighs. "I'm not explaining this the way I want to. I'm not angry." 

"I don't think you are." 

"It - never mind." Levi shakes his head. "The only advice I have is to focus on one thing and why you do it. Then let that thing drive you. Stop thinking and do something." 

The weight on my chest isn't any lighter. "Sure." 

We're both frustrated in the dark. 

"I'm sorry," Levi says. I don't know how to respond. I want to express something, but it hangs, unformed, in the space between my lips and my vocal cords. I groan. 

"Focus on little steps," Levi elaborates. I appreciate him trying to fill the gap in our conversation, but it's not working. 

“I don’t think killing your uncle is a little step.” I swear even the crickets fall silent as the words leave my mouth. It’s the first time I’ve spoken about one of my goals and understood the significance those words might have for Levi. 

All Levi says is, “No.” I want to ask him about Kenny watching Farlan, and if his uncle watches Isabel, too. I want to know the real reason why. Are they hostages? Shields from his nephew? But Levi’s face is a stone wall, and the windows behind his eyes are closed and locked tight. Right now isn’t the time. 

I sink back into the grass. I want to go home. The first thing I'm getting when I have cash is a one-way plane ticket down to the states. The Families can try to stop me. 

When Levi gets up and heads towards the patio door, I follow after him. Jean sees us coming and gives us both quick once-overs, just in case I tried to sneak his boss away and strangle him. I make a face at the ashbrown. He flashes me a supremely bored glance. If his beloved boss wasn’t here, Jean would show his true colors and demonstrate something a lot more vulgar. 

The bed is soft, and welcoming, and for once Levi and I fall asleep at the same time. There’s some very careful and not at all awkward dodging each other while getting in and out of the bathroom, but once my head hits the pillow, I melt. 

The silence in the room is thick. I know he’s awake. He knows I’m awake. I know he knows thar I’m awake, and he knows that I know he’s awake. 

“Levi?” Sleep slurs my voice. 

“Mmm?” An answer rises up from the futon. The raven sounds as tired as I am. 

“G’night.” 

Sigh. “Goodnight, Eren.” 

I'm not at ease when I close my eyes, but I feel a relaxation I haven't felt for a long time. Sleep finds me quickly, and I don't dream of a single splash of red.


	14. Acceleration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important development

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize how short this chapter was until I started editing, but I said what needed to be said without anything dragging on, so that's how it is. I'm sorry it's taken so long to update. The semester has been insanely busy. I'm incredibly tired, so I apologize for any typos/grammatical errors. Please tell me if you find something. As always, thank you so much for all your support, kudos, and nice comments!

The house is quiet in the morning. Isabel is in her room, and both Eren and the dog are out of sight. Jean alternates between hovering by the door and pacing around the house’s various entrance points. Hange remains in the basement, cocooned under a thick comforter. 

Everyone is holding their breath. The deadline is up. 

It’s not until tonight that I get a call. When the phone rings, I expect to find Armin’s number on the caller ID. Instead, it’s my uncle’s personal phone. The moment I pick up, his voice sets my on edge. “We did it, nephew!” My uncle laughs, gleeful and darkly satisfied. “Those cops don't have any balls.” 

I grit my teeth. “It’s ten at night.”

“What about it?” 

“The day isn’t over. What makes you think Erwin won’t make a move?” Kenny chuckles. 

“Everything’s normal, shorty. The cops aren’t doing shit. The government isn't, either. All the national soldiers are nice and cozy in their barracks.” 

My uncle decided that since there’s no indicator that we’re in danger, that means danger doesn’t exist. It’s a completely moronic conclusion, especially for someone as paranoid as him. “They can still make a move,” I warn. “They could attack tomorrow, for all we know.” I wouldn’t put it past Erwin. I would be shocked if he doesn't know how decoys work.

“They won’t,” My uncle’s voice oozes smugness like a slug oozes slime. “Trust me, Levi. I have good sources who told me that the government decided not to make a move. Erwin can threaten us all he wants, but he can’t do whatever he wants. He has very little power on the national level.” That’s true. 

“And how reliable are your good sources?” 

Kenny’s answer drips with glee. “The prime minister goes to confessional every Sunday, and I own the priest that he listens to.” The family head cracks up. I shut my eyes. Well, that would do it. 

“Unless he knows we’re paying off his priest,” I say, “in which case we might still be fucked." Or someone else knows and lied to the prime minister so he only believes that the government won’t make a move.” 

I can imagine my uncle rolling his eyes. “Nothing is going to happen.”

My uncle has never instilled much faith in me, and now isn’t any different. Even this newfound information doesn’t lower my hackles. I can think of at least a dozen reasons why Kenny is being foolhardy. But he’s a stubborn ass, so he’s not going to change his opinion. “What are you going to do now?” 

Kenny hums. “Still thinking about it. Since it turns out the brass are even bigger pussies than I originally thought, we might be able to move ahead faster than I anticipated.” 

I wince inwardly. “Don’t get reckless.”

A long pause on the other end of the line. “What was that?” Kenny asks, his voice disinterested.

Fuck. “Sir, I would advise against doing anything unnecessarily risky.” 

My uncle grunts. “That’s what I thought you said. I’ll take your advice into consideration. And I’ll be the one determining exactly what ‘unnecessary’ means.” 

“For your information," Kenny adds, "I thought we can move along with our original plan.” 

Oh. “Making a deal with the Germans.” I’m vaguely aware how flat my tone has become, but I can’t bring myself to be concerned about it. It’s not a surprise to see Kenny pushing forwards with his schemes, but this particular idea leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It had from the start. 

_“Kids?” My expression covers my shock and distaste. “You’re going to go after the man’s kid?”_

_Kenny grunts from the other side of his desk. “Of course I am. It’s the easiest way to make Grisha cooperate.”_

_“I’m not going to drag a kid into anything,” I say firmly. Involving family is a higher level of aggression than normal feuding. Hurting a sibling child, or parent is the most disgusting kind of attack. One of the few unspoken rules of warfare is that involving innocent family is strictly forbidden._

_“Yes, you will.” Kenny’s tone is a threat. I was going to send some men to take care of it and have you only preside over the operations. Since you’re so eager, you’re going to go retrieve him yourself.” My uncle shakes his head. “He’s sixteen, not four.” As if that makes anything better._

“Levi?” Kenny grinds out. 

“My apologies.” I push the memories away. “Could you repeat that, Sir?” 

My uncle huffs. “What do you think of going ahead with our plans?” 

I hate it. “Where and how are we going to make the exchange?” 

“We’re meeting in Switzerland,” Kenny explains. “We bring some of our men, and he’ll bring some of his. We’re going to bring Eren out, calmly tell him what we want, and threaten his son if we don’t get what we want from him. He says yes, and we both leave happy.” 

I drum my fingers on the desk. “Is national security going to be an issue when we leave the country?” 

“Not with the right phone calls.” 

“Then we’ll proceed.” I don’t want to imagine what Eren’s going to look like when I tell him. Relieved? Angry? Hopeful? Nothing? What are his eyes going to look like? What is he going to say? I hate damaging Eren. 

Kenny grunts in agreement. “You’re all right with that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t have a soft spot for the kid,” Kenny prods. I sigh. 

“I don’t want to keep him here, if that’s what you’re asking.” Kenny chuckles. “I’m serious.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t screw with me.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Mmmm.” A new thought occurs to my uncle. “Until they decide to use him against us. Then he’s better off in the ground.” 

“That’s a situation we were familiar with from the beginning,” I say. That’s what happens to a lot of young people in the underground. “Relax. He doesn’t know anything important.” 

“No?” Kenny replies. “He doesn’t know anything about what kind of people we are, who you care about -,” 

“Not more than is obvious.” Eren knows I love Farlan and Izzy, but that’s a given. Any random cop could figure that out, or at least correctly assume that. 

Kenny grunts. “I’ll hold you to that.” He chuckles. “I bet Grisha hope he can juice the boy for all sorts of tasty details. It’s gonna be nice to deprive him.” 

I make a noncommittal sound. “Is there a date set for the meeting?” 

“Grisha offered to meet as early as next week. I bet he’s curious about what we have in store for him. He’s going to bring his underboss with him, maybe some execs, and that could work to our advantage. They’ll pressure him into protecting his family.” 

That’s assuming Grisha believes that Eren is his son. I guess if he’s skeptical we can offer a DNA test. 

“So when will we leave?” 

“Sunday? We can rest and present a strong front when we meet with Grisha next Monday. I already told the Arlert boy so he can prepare travel arrangements.” 

“Alright.” I have to let Eren know what’s going to happen. Then I have to figure out what to do with Jean and Izzy while I’m gone. 

Kenny hangs up with a click. I stay in my chair for a long second, processing everything I just heard. We’re safe, at least according to a priest. Eren will be gone in… what, four days? 

I’m relieved about the government’s decision. I also feel a little bit betrayed by it. I understand why they won’t make a move, but they’re going to let Kenny roam free. 

As for Eren… I knew Grisha would get him eventually, but I didn’t want it to be this soon. Eren will get eaten live. 

I find Eren in the backyard, digging up some of the shriveled peony plants. The trees and bushes in the garden mask him from our neighbors. He doesn’t notice me when I approach, up to his knees in dirt and dead roots. “Hey.” 

Eren’s shoulders jolt and he spins around his eyes comically wide. “Hey?” 

I roll my eyes. “We aren’t planting anything new. What are you trying to achieve?” 

“The garden will look better without dead plants everywhere,” Eren says. “What is it?”

He knows I’m stalling. “Kenny thinks the government won’t attack us.” Eren’s eyes reflect my reactions. “So he decided that we’re meeting your father on Monday.” 

Eren blinks at me once. “Next Monday?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” 

I worried that once I broke the news to Eren, he would go to his room and stare at a wall or something. Instead, a whole spectrum of emotions dances across his features. Anxiety. Trepidation. Hope. Terror. Disappointment. Relief. The jumbled expressions spread across his face until they blend and turn into something plaintive and alarmed. 

I want to say something comforting, but I don’t know how. “We’re going to leave on Sunday.” 

Eren nods. His gaze falls to the grass. “Are we staying here until then?” 

“I don’t know.” Eren nods again. 

“Can I be alone?’ He asks. 

“Yeah. Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally taking off, so the next few chapters should be pretty eventful. I'm really looking forwards to it.
> 
> Also: Wolfenstein II got released and I lowkey love Wolfenstein a lot.


	15. Camaraderie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren's second sleepover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next chapter were supposed to be together, but the more I wrote, the more I realized that a single update would be waaay too long, so if the end of this chapter feels a little choppy, that's probably why. I'm just going to post them close together instead.
> 
> In other news, I was looking back at some of the earlier chapters of this fic, and some of it is super cringy... but that's also how it always is with past work.

When four days pass without Erwin making a move, we pack up and go back to the house. Back when Trost was a puppy, I held him by the collar so he didn’t fall onto the highway while he tried to stick his head through the window. Now, he’s too big for that to be a threat. Trost crushes my lap as he leans across me to taste the wind, his tongue dangling from his mouth. He turns his eye to look at me, and the goofy grin on his face makes me smile. 

Grisha better not try to take Trost away from me. I grip Trost’s collar tighter. I’d like to see him fucking try. 

I throw myself into lessons and training, but I’m always preoccupied by the knowledge that I’m leaving soon. The days pass in the blur. I pack my bags without really processing what I’m doing, throwing my few belongings into the suitcase. Boarding the plane feels surreal. I’m grateful that Jean Hange, Mike, and Levi’s team are coming to Zürich. I’m not ready to say goodbye. I’m not sure how, anyways. I botched Connie and Sasha’s with a stilted statement cringeworthy enough to win me a bear hug. 

Levi lounges in the seat across from me. With the exception of the other Ackerman men, there aren’t any other passengers on the plane. “Do you guys own the plane?” 

“No, but we bought all the seats, and the flight attendants won’t say anything.” I nod. “It’s a big expense, but it’s fine. Kenny is about to make a lot of money.” 

“I didn’t say goodbye to Izzy and Farlan,” I realize. Levi shrugs. 

“Well, Farlan left a while ago, and Izzy was already at school when we left.”

“Yeah…” Great, now I feel bad. I slide down in my chair. Trost isn’t allowed the cabin, so he’s down in the cargo hold. I hate that he has to sit with all the luggage in the plane’s dark underbelly. 

“Where’s Kenny?” I ask. Levi snorts.

“Constipated on the toilet. Or sitting up with the captain like the big shot he thinks he is.” I gape at Levi. I’ve never heard Levi speak so dismissively about his uncle. His voice is low, and I doubt that anyone besides the two of us can hear. 

Petra catches me and flashes me a reassuring wink over the top of Oluo’s seat. I shouldn’t put much stock in the gesture, but it helps. A lot. 

“You’re probably sick of the meeting already,” Levi says, “but I’ll say one thing, and then I’ll shut up. Most of the people here don’t know what you’re going through -,”

“Wow, uplifting much?”

Levi sighs. “Are you going to shut up or not? You don’t have to listen.” 

“No,” I say quickly. “I want to listen. I’m sorry.” 

“Okay. _As_ I was saying, most of the people on this plane don’t know what you’re going through.” He hesitates for a split second. “But it’s going to be okay. Right now, it feels like you’ve been flung into a maelstrom with no way out, right? It doesn’t feel like that forever.” I can barely hear him, and I have to lean out of my seat to catch his words. 

“And you’re speaking from experience?” I ask, half joking, half curious. Levi doesn’t respond. Oh. 

Levi, elusive as always. I want to have one conversation with him where he says what he means and where he’s completely honest. I want him to answer my questions. I want to understand Levi and for him to be okay with that. Actually, I want him to be more than okay with me knowing him. I want him to help me figure him out. Right now, he’s infuriating. Half the time I’m around Levi, I don’t know what to make of him. The other half of the time, I want to smash my face into the nearest wall. 

For now, I put aside my questions about Levi’s statement. A week from now, when I’m doing God knows what, it’s going to drive me insane. For now, it helps. A little bit. There are a million things wrong with where I am and the people with me, but Petra and Levi reassured me, at least for now. 

Our flight to Zürich takes five hours. I lose track of the time and drift off to sleep. Jean shakes me awake when we arrive, and I drift through the airport in a bleary haze. I’m vaguely aware of scraps of voices and words spinning around me as Levi and Mike discuss who’s going to pick up our bags and when we can check in to our hotel. 

The hotel isn’t in the center of the city, but it’s in a nice part of it, and our rooms are large and clean. Eld, Gunther, Oluo, and Petra share a room (Petra: “I’m not sharing a bed with the annoying one.”), Kenny and his guards get one, and Jean, Levi, and I share a third. We have two beds, but I end up having a room to myself because Jean crashes on the couch. I feel a little bad that he always gets the short end of the stick, but he’s the guard – I guess he has to rough it out. Levi is tenser than usual. His uncle is right across the hall, and tomorrow could quickly turn dangerous. Right after we get settled in, he disappears into his room on a call from Farlan.

Jean and I surf through the channels. The ashbrown makes a face. “Tout est en allemand.” _(Everything is German.)_

“Les gens parlent français, ici. Il doit y avoir des chaînes français.” _(People speak French here. There has to be some French TV.)_

“Françaises.” 

“What?” 

“You said des chaînes français. It's des chaînes françaises.” Jean corrects me.

“Okay, but that was still pretty good.” 

“It wasn’t bad,” Jean concedes. “Your accent still needs some work, though. You sound like a preppy British guy. You over exaggerate all your ons.” 

Someone knocks on the door. Jean jumps to his feet and peers through the peephole. “It’s Eld and Gunther. We’re cool.” He swings the door open. “Hey, guys.” 

“Do you want to come over?” Gunther peers into the room. “You too, Eren.” 

“To your room?” 

“Yeah. It’s nice to be with people before a job, and you guys look bored.” 

“Sure, I’ll go over,” Jean says. “You want to come too?” He asks me.

“Yeah, I’ll go over.” Why not? 

“Alright. I’ll let the boss know that we’re leaving.” 

Once we inform Levi that we’re going next door, and he makes us take Trost with us, Jean and I go to the team’s room. Petra, Oluo, Gunther, and Eld lie draped over the couches and chairs with a few liquor bottles on the coffee table. Jean immediately grabs a glass. I sit down on the carpet. “Don’t tell me you’re going to get drunk before work tomorrow.” 

Gunther grunts. “No, we won’t. But it’s nice to relax before a job.” 

“Yeah.” I can’t imagine what it feels like to go to bed knowing you might not live to go to sleep again tomorrow. 

“Do you want some?” Eld asks mildly. 

“Okay,” Oluo makes a face. 

“Don’t waste the good stuff on the kid,” He says. “He can’t handle it.” Petra rolls her eyes and passes me a glass. Emboldened by Oluo’s comments, I grab the glass and down it in a swallow. First all I can think of is that the liquor tastes the way lighter fluid smells, and it’s a little gross. Then it starts to burn. “Jesus fuck!” The team laughs. 

Conversation flows easily, and the Ackermans shift into French. Occasionally, they’ll direct a question to me in English, or I’ll catch snippets of the stories they’re telling, but most of the vocabulary floats over my head. Nevertheless, it’s nice to bask in the group’s camaraderie. Being buzzed definitely helps. 

“Ça fait combien de temps que vous travaillez ensemble?” I ask when the conversation lulls. _(How long have you guys worked together?)_ I’m not sure if I’m pleased or insulted by the impressed surprise that appears on the group’s faces. 

They consider my question. “Sept ans?” _(Seven years?)_ Eld says. Gunther shrugs and nods. 

“Environ.” _(About)_ He agrees. 

“Mike et le capitaine en ont parlé, et le capitaine envisage de rajouter quelqu'un.” Petra says. Jean perks up. 

Yep, I totally understood that. “Comment?” _(What?)_ I ask, slightly embarrassed. 

“Captain might add someone to the unit.” Gunther translates. 

“But he wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone else,” Petra amends. 

Jean looks interested, and I hope that if Levi does add someone, it’s him. Jean’s trusted enough to be close to the organization’s leadership, and he’s been here a while. He deserves a promotion. Besides, it’s not like he’ll have to watch me anymore. 

“Le capitaine est quelqu'un de bien," (The captain's good like that.) Eld agrees. "Il s'occupera bien de la Famille,"

He’ll be better than Kenny. Once I have the Jägers, I’ll be more than happy to help Erwin take Kenny down. I don’t know about Levi, though. It depends what he does after his uncle is gone. 

Petra strokes Trost’s ears, and Gunther leans over and whispers something in Oluo’s ear. The man’s face scrunches up. 

“Mon chien reçoit plus de caresses de Petra qu'Oluo,” _(My dog gets more action from Petra than Oluo does)_ I say. Ed laughs. 

“C'est mieux pour lui qu'il n'envisage pas d'avoir son propre chien, parce qu'il serait constamment en compétition avec lui.” _(It’s a good thing that he doesn't plan on getting a dog of his own, because he would be competing with it all the time.)_ Gunther agrees. 

“Oluo ne te déteste pas,” Eld adds. “Il aime faire semblant d'être le capitaine. Il n'y arrive pas trop.” _(Oluo doesn’t dislike you. He likes to pretend to be the captain. He’s not very good at it.)_

“Ouais, c'est bien ce que je me disais.” _(Yeah, I didn’t think so.)_ Eld chuckles and thumps me on the back. I feel warm, and light, and like I could lie down on the carpet and fall asleep perfectly content. 

The light in Levi’s room is dark when Jean and I return. We tiptoe through our respective showers, brush our teeth, and head to sleep. In my room, with Trost on the bed, I stare through the window into the night city. Lights from traffic and buildings illuminates the stone and metal landscape, but the artificial lights don’t drown out the moon or the stars. 

A single, bright streak darts across the sky, and I smile. I’ve already made my wish on this star, already spoken the words aloud in the study of an old house with a dead garden and a few secrets. All that’s left for me to do is to see if my wish comes true, or if Levi was right (which he isn’t) and I’m naïve in hoping that the world can exist without suffering and fear. 

I lean against the cool glass. I’m closer to my wish than I ever have been. After tomorrow, I’ll be in a position of power – or a position to be powerful someday. I’m sure that I can speed up Grisha’s death if it means I’ll inherit the family sooner. I just have to be smart about how I trap him. 

I’m sure Mom would be so proud of me, plotting patricide and surrounded with people who have done terrible things because I enjoy their company. I feel a little guilty, and troubled, and unsure, but I’m mostly tired, and scared, and a little bit excited. 

I don’t want to leave the Ackermans. There, I said it. It’s the truth. I have unfinished business with Kenny, and there are people in this Family that I like being around. I’m a prisoner here, but it feels like I’m less a captive with every day. I’m not ready for another unknown organization. Mom told me to leave the Ackermans at all costs, even if it means going to Grisha, but I’m not so sure she’s right anymore. Mom thought she was right, and I thought she was right, but she isn’t here now and I am. She doesn’t see the Ackermans the same way I do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about Petra getting her own room, being the gal in the group, but the more I thought about it the more I thought she should share with her teammates. They've been through so much together, being roommates won't be that awkward.
> 
> Next chapter is going to get interesting real fast... There might be a surprise involved. ;)


	16. Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few weeks have been incredibly hectic with the end of my semester and then traveling, and in typical me fashion I forgot my adapter, so that was great. But I'm here now and ahhhh this is the big chapter. I realized some of my tags gave parts of the chapter away, so I revised them, but maybe you know what's going to happen. ;).

Jean bangs on my door at five in the morning. Groaning, I drag myself out of bed and into the communal kitchen area. Levi has a cup of tea in hand, and Jean keeps checking and rechecking his magazines. By the time I’m showered and dressed, Petra, Oluo, Gunther, Eld, and Mike are also crammed into the hotel room. The little talk that’s going on passes in whispers. Nobody is scared or anxious, not exactly; jaws are set in hard lines and arms fold over chests. “Do I have to pack anything?” I ask.

“No” Levi says. “We’re showing Grisha the goods, so to speak. No actual trading until later.” 

I spend the car ride to the meeting place silently freaking the fuck out. The more I think about meeting the Jägers, the more I don't know what to do or say. 

“Nobody ever feels ready the first time they go to a meet-up,” Jean says quietly. I jump. 

“Am I that obvious?” 

“You look like you’re going to puke,” Jean assures me. “Look, the Jägers have an incentive to keep you safe. You’re their boss’s kid. Besides, the reason we’re trying to strike a bargain with the Germans is because we don’t want to fight with them, right? We won't turn you over and then shoot you in the head.” 

“No,” I agree. “You’re only going to shoot me farther in the future.” 

Jean laughs. “Maybe. It would suck.” 

“Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t enjoy shooting me in the face.” 

“I considered it once or twice,” Jean admits. "But you might not have anything to worry about. Our Families can go their separate ways, and I'll never have to think about knocking you."

"Sure. Kenny will let that happen."

Jean gets the same look in his eye that he does when he's about to weasel his way out of a night shift. "Right, but there are other solutions to that problem." 

I gape at him. "Was that-," 

"Yeah." 

The meeting place turns out to be a nightclub in a seedier part of the city. In the pale morning, the inside of the building is nothing but pasty concrete and tangles of ungainly lighting fixtures. The few staff inside look at us quickly before averting their gaze and giving us a wide berth. 

“Est-ce que la sécurité du bâtiment est assurée?” Levi asks Eld. _(Is the security of the building confirmed?)_

“Nous avons des hommes stationnés tout autour, et ils ont confirmé que tout était en ordre,” _(We have men stationed around it, they confirmed that it is safe.)_

A man approaches our group. “Are you here to see Mr. Jäger?” He asks in heavily accented English. Levi nods curtly. “My name is Grice. If you follow me –,”

“Hey.” The familiar voice sends prickles down my spine. “I’m the one you need to talk to.” Kenny and his entourage stride through the entrance. His eyes gleam, hungry and eager, as they scan the building and land on Grice. “Where’s your boss?" 

“Mr. Jäger and his second will arrive shortly,” Grice says calmly. “If you come with me, I’ll take you where you can wait for him.” Grice leads us to a back room. “Mr. Jäger will arrive shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable. If there’s anything you want while you wait, I’ll be happy to place a request with the staff.” 

“Whatever your nicest liquor is.” Kenny says. To us, he adds, “Nous nous sommes déplacés jusqu'ici et on doit encore attendre ? On dirait que Grisha essaie d'être plus en retard que Lady Gaga.” _(We come all the way out here and now we have to wait some more? Grisha is trying to be fashionably late like Lady Gaga.)._

Grice leaves. The drinks appear minutes later, and then we’re left to our own devices. I feel a little sick, my stomach pitching, and I’m glad that I didn’t have much to eat this morning. I try to distract myself, but my gaze falls on the back of Kenny’s neck. I might be valuable to him, but he hasn’t looked at me once. I feel like a horse for sale, something valuable but viewed without sincere emotion. Sighing inwardly, I trail my gaze over the walls of the room. 

I’m so saturated with nerves that I don’t know if I want to hit something, walk out of the room, or break the silence. All three options are potentially dangerous for my health but oh so tempting. Or maybe I’ll punch Grisha. Shit, I’m going to throw up. 

Voices rise from the hall, approaching the room. The shift in the Ackermans is immediate. Lagging shoulders straighten and the room takes a collective deep breath. “Er ist respektlos.” _(He’s disrespectful.)_ That'sGrice. 

“Von Kenny dem Ripper habe ich nichts anderes erwartet.” _(I didn’t expect anything else from Kenny the Ripper.)_ The voice that speaks takes my breath away. The accent is definitely North German, and it sounds like Mom minus her laughter and occasional scolding. The resemblance is dizzying. 

“Ich weiß nicht, ob er ein Terror immer noch ist.” _(I don’t know if he’s still a terror.)_ The third voice is similar to the second, but younger and more amused. 

“Unterschätze nicht die Franzosen.” _(Don’t underestimate the French.)_ The second voice reprimands mildly. 

The room shifts collectively. I bite down on my bottom lip a little too hard, and the tang of blood fills my mouth. The door opens. Oh, God. I’m going to sick. 

Grice enters first, followed by a cohort of what looks like cronies. The next man who enters is tall, with wide shoulders and a scruffy blonde beard. He scans the room, studying Kenny and Levi with mild interest. When his gaze lands on me, the casual interest turns into the same fascination people have when they see an exotic animal in a zoo. Then, the man turns towards the next figure to enter the room. 

He has a similar build to the blonde, but this man is clearly older. Lines weather his face, and his dark hair greys in places. His eyes are sharp though, and when he studies us, his gaze cuts with laserlike intensity. Kenny, Levi, Jean – all put aside. Minor concerns. Petra, Oluo, Gunther, Eld – easily handled. This man is a veteran. It’s clear in the way he holds himself, watchful but very relaxed in the way he only could be if he knew he had the situation under control. When the man sees me, He doesn’t give any sign of surprise, confusion, or alarm. I realize that – like the blonde man knows, like Kenny, with mild irritation, thinks – this man knows exactly who I am. I know who he is, too. Grisha confirms my suspicions when he opens his mouth and says, “Du siesht genau wie deine Mutter aus.” _(You look exactly like your mother.)_

I am a statue, rooted to the ground and made with lungs that are too heavy to use. Everyone in the room watches me for my response, but I don’t have anything to give them. 

“Naja,” I start. Fuck, my German is rusty. “Familiäre Beziehungen neigen dazu, das zu tun.” _(Yeah, well, familial relations tend to do that.)_ The blonde chuckles. 

Grisha turns towards Kenny. “I presume,” he says in accented English, “that you’re the one responsible for this?” He gestures to me. 

“I am.” Kenny folds his arms over his chest and surveys the other man up and down. Grisha doesn’t bat an eyes under the scrutiny. 

"What did you hope to achieve?” 

Kenny chuckles, low and satisfied. This is the discussion he’s been waiting for. “I want to make a deal with you, Mr. Jäger. We both have something the other wants. I’m perfectly willing to relinquish Eren if you give me something in return.” 

The blonde man lets out a huffing sigh and leans back against the wall. “You’re offering Carla’s son.” Grisha says. The lack of acknowledgement and responsibility stings. Fuck you too, Dad. 

“That’s right,” Kenny says. “Right now, Mr. Jäger, your Family controls most of the Saarland. I want a majority of that territory. In return, I’ll give your son to you. I promise that I haven’t harmed him-,” Not true. "-and that I have no wish to do so as long as you comply with my demands.” 

“And if I don’t?” Grisha asks. 

Kenny shrugs. “Then the boy dies and we take the land by force." The Ackerman’s eyes gleam when he speaks. He wants an excuse, I realize. Kenny wants a fight with the German Family, and he’ll be thrilled if Grisha refuses to give him what he wants. The Family head isn’t bluffing, either. If Grisha doesn’t give Kenny what he wants, the older raven will order someone in this room to take me out behind the club and shoot me. Or he'll do it right here. 

For a moment, the room is dead silent. Grisha is still, the blonde at his shoulder unmoving. Kenny and Levi are likewise positioned, and the Families’ respective men size each other up. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Grisha laughs. The French gangsters stiffen. “Incredible,” He marvels. “You never cease to amaze me, Kenneth. First the issues with your sister and the takeover in Rhone-Alpes, and then that nasty business with the Family in Alsace. I think that every power grab, every deal, will be your last success. I always believe that you have gone too far and that you're going to fall, but nothing ever happens." Grisha shakes his head. "It's impressive. I respected you a lot up until now. Now you disappoint me. You go and track down my ex-wife, put a bullet in her head, and drag her son back to parade him in front of me because you believe _that I have any interest in his wellbeing_." Every syllable hits me like a brick to the face.

They also aren’t the responses the Ackermans want. Levi’s expression is as cool as a cucumber, but I can tell from the set of his shoulders and the rigidness of his jaw that he’s on edge. Kenny scowls.

“Your Family places a high value on familial bonds,” Kenny says. “You protect your own.” 

“That’s true,” Grisa agrees, “but I don’t know that Eren is my son.” Wait, what the fuck? “He’s Carla’s, any idiot could see that much, but I don’t know that I’m his father.” The German quirks an eyebrow. “Why pay such a hefty price to take care of someone who might not be mine?” I grit my teeth. Bastard! He knows exactly what game he’s playing. 

“If you’re that concerned,” Kenny grinds out, “we can order a DNA test.” Grisha frowns. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Grisha says. “I don’t need any more of your pathetic ransom attempts.”

“You think I’m lying to you, Grisha?” Kenny asks lowly

Grisha looks amused. “Do you think I have any reason to believe otherwise? I’m not a stupid man, Mr. Ackerman. I’m very familiar with your history.” Kenny glowers. “In any case,” Grisha continues, “I don’t need another son.” What. The. Fuck. What the FUCK is that supposed to mean? 

Grisha gestures to the blonde man. “My son and underboss, Zeke, Jäger.” 

The setting drops away, and I am consumed by the suddenly very obvious family resemblance Zeke has to Grisha. They have the same face and wide shoulders. The same facial hair. Hell, even their glasses are similar. 

Forget a brick to the face. Grisha dropped a whole fucking house on me. The revelation almost doesn't make sense - Zeke is older than me, so it's not like Grisha had a second son with a complacent wife. And why didn't we know about Zeke sooner? Levi's phone is in his hand, and no doubt he's lighting a fire under Armin to answer the same questions. 

“You’re bluffing.” Kenny says. Grisha shakes his head.

“Zeke was born out of wedlock a long time ago, and I didn't expect him to succeed me until my old successor recently invalidated himself." Zeke stiffens, but he puts one hand on the back of his father's chair and fits me with a proprietary glare. I stare back. This man is my half-brother? 

Kenny tries to reign himself in while the other head watches him with an expression approaching boredom. “I see,” Kenny says tightly. “Well, this is unfortunate. I hoped we could come to an understanding.” 

“There isn’t anything I’ll accept for my land,” Grisha says. 

“Then I’m done here.” Kenny rises from his seat. His expression is pinched and sour. 

Grisha smiles. “I appreciate your time, Mr. Ackerman.” 

It’s then that it dawns on me that something is wrong. Grisha is relaxed, his gaze almost lazy and with a sort of detached anticipation. He looks like a fox who locked the henhouse door behind him. 

“Yeah, well,” Kenny says, his voice clipped, “we should get going.” 

“I don’t think,” Grisha says, “that any of you are going anywhere.” In the time it takes me to blink, Grisha’s men have their weapons drawn. Jean swears, and the Ackerman soldiers reach for their own firearms. “Anyone who draws gets shot.” Grisha snaps. 

Silence. I’m terrified to breathe, let alone move a muscle. Levi’s expression shifts through wrath, frustration, and something sad and unsatisfied. Jean’s face goes blank and cold. The jaws of Levi’s team are set in grim, tight lines. 

Levi speaks. “What are you doing, Mr. Jäger?” 

“Getting rid of a problem,” Grisha responds.

“We have guards outside waiting for us,” Levi says. “If you kill any of us, you won’t make it out of the building.” 

Grisha looks unconcerned. “Go ahead and call your guards.” 

Levi hesitates. “Call them,” Kenny says lowly. His eyes dart around the room, scanning for exists or gaps in Grisha’s wall of men. 

Levi calls the men outside. The room listens to the phone ring, and ring, and then go to voicemail. 

“Everyone in this building is loyal to me.” Grisha says. "Your men don't have a place here."

Kenny grinds his teeth. “Hey, let’s not get hasty here. We can still work out a way to keep everyone happy.” 

“I don’t think so.” Grisha says. To me, he adds, “It’s nothing personal. This is just business.” 

Levi shoots first. Grisha jerks, and at first I think he’s down – but the bullet only clips his shoulder. The head clutches his wound and shouts an order, but his men are already firing. Levi moves faster than I’ve ever seen him, hitting the ground and darting behind a sofa for cover. The Ackermans immediately leap into action, taking up similar defensive positions. Jean grabs me by the collar and pulls me down. 

The ashbrown shakes me once. “Are you here?” I nod. Adrenalin pumps through me, screaming at me to flee. Jean shoves a gun into my hand. I blanch. “Look Eren, this is a sucky day for you. I get it, but if you don’t help now, it’s going to get a lot worse.” With that, he pops over the top of the couch and begins firing. 

Someone screams, shattering my moment of shock. The last thing I want to do is hide in the corner like an idiot, especially since I trained to fight in situations like these. Another bullet rips through the sofa, narrowly missing my head. I respond with a shot of my own before immediately ducking down again. Another flurry of lead rips through the couch. I’m not sure how much more of this abuse the sofa can take. 

Grisha and Kenny shout orders to their men over the gunfire, calling to advance, to hold a position – the sounds blur together in the barrage of noise. My ears ache from the noise of combat. I pull the trigger again. No recoil, no bullet. Empty magazine. I fumble to reload. 

Blood and men spill over the room. We’re trapped against the wall, effectively pinned down, and we’re getting the worst of the casualties. Still, the Jägers can’t advance on us easily without getting picked off. For now, they’re held at bay by the constant barrage of fire. Eventually, we’ll run out of ammo. Then we’re screwed. Or the cops will come, but we're screwed then too. 

My blood boils. I’m not going to die here, in the back room of some stupid nightclub, far from home and without accomplishing I want to do. In this moment, survival trumps morality. I lean over the couch to fire when one of the Jägers leaps up at the same time. We make eye contact for a split second before I shoot and his grim expression flattens into one of dull surprise. He falls. I drop down again. My heart pounds against my chest, every muscle in my body on edge. I'm frantic and jittery like I’m massively overcaffinated. 

The Jägers advance step by step, closing the distance to us over the destroyed floor. My muscles ache in protest with each quick movement, and the next time I try to dodge behind cover, I’m too slow. A slug nicks my arm. I hiss as it draws blood. 

The enemy fire becomes lighter and less concentrated. Heart in my throat, I watch another German fall. We might be able to escape after all. 

The moment the last enemy crumples to the ground, I sprint for the exit. The others are right with me. Kenny strides into the lead, his face a storm of blatant rage. “How many bullets do you have left?” Jean asks me. 

“Three or four. Not that many.” My hands shake so much that I almost drop my weapon. 

“Share with me, I’m empty.” 

“Where’s Levi’s team?” The only people n the hallway besides Levi, Jean, Mike and I are Kenny and a few men I don't recognize. Dread forms a hard lump in my stomach. 

“I don’t know, worry about it later. We have to get out of here.” 

“- En soutien. Ils devraient être ici maintenant,” _(-Backup. They should be here by now.)_ Levi murmurs to his uncle. The older man grunts. 

“La police va elle aussi bientôt arriver,” The head says. _(The police will be here soon too.)_

“Nous n'avons pas d'endroit où nous réfugier,” _(We don’t have a safe house.)_

“On y est déjà allés sans eux. Tu te souviens quoi faire.” _(We’ve gone without them before. You remember what to do.)_

Levi raises his voice. “On se sépare.” _(We’re splitting up.)_ “Eren, Jean, et -,” He blanches at the hallway behind us. “Eren, Jean, venez avec moi.” _(Eren, Jean, and – Eren, Jean, come with me.)_

Kenny calls for the others to follow him. Jean and I fall into step with the Captain. “Sorry, Eren.” Levi says. “This isn’t what you expected to happen.” 

“Your soldiers -,” 

“If they aren’t here then they aren’t coming,” Levi says flatly. “We’ll collect their bodies later. There’s no time now. They wouldn’t want us to get caught while we try to drag them out of here.” Levi keeps his eyes fixed on the exit. His hands clench in his pockets. “We’re going to regroup at the hotel in a while. We might have to find another place to hide out tonight, and we have to stay vigilant. I don’t know if Grisha will come after us again.” 

My stomach drops. “He escaped?” 

“He left as soon as it looked like we wouldn’t make it.” 

“He knows he’s my dad.” 

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want you.” That’s for sure. Jean won't meet my eye. 

“Fuck,” Levi swears. “This is perfect. Interpol is already on my ass. They follow Grisha too. If we both happen to be in a city and there’s a massive gunfight, they’re going to be like flies swarming on fresh shit." 

I shiver. I’m tired, hungry, and completely drained. “Where are we going?” 

“Out of the area. We’ll find a different hotel and reconnect with the rest of the group.” Levi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck,” He says again. “I called Hange. She’ll meet us as soon as we find a place.” 

The sunlight outside the building is blinding, and I blink as my eyes water. “What’s going to happen to me?” My voice comes out plaintive and a little desperate. Levi sighs. “I don’t know. We’ll figure something out -,” He tenses, his head snapping to scan the sky. “Get down!” The raven roars. 

Levi sighs. “I don’t know. We’ll figure something out -,” He tenses, his head snapping to scan the sky. “Get down!” The raven roars. 

There’s an irregularity in the sunlight, a reflective discoloration in the air to my right. A gunshot cracks through the air, and the pavement rushes up to meet me. The concrete punches the air out of my lungs, leaving me gasping. My palms and shins sting where they make contact with the ground, and the skin tears. 

By the time I stagger to my feet, a good amount of blood covers the ground. Jean swears with a brutality that I’ve never heard from him, and hands shove me behind the nearest wall. Jean doesn't return fire. He focuses all of his attention on Levi, who leans heavily on the wall. Levi's expression is drawn, and one hand presses over his chest. "Fucking shit," He says. A cough wracks his body, and he winces. Levi's breathing is choppy, and he struggles to stay upright. "Sir -," Jean says. 

"Call Hange," Levi orders. 

"You need an ambulance," I say. I feel a bit like I'm underwater, the world around distorted and me sluggish and removed. Blood seeps through the front of Levi's pristine shirt. 

"Miss Hange?" Jean sounds absolutely terrified. I sink down to the ground. "Yeah, I know - no - Mr. Ackerman is shot." Pause. "A sniper. Right. Yes Ma'am." Jean turns to Levi. "Sir, you have to stay conscious." 

"Do you think I'm going to pass out in a fucking back alley?" 

Jean turns back to the phone. "Yes, he's responsive. No. No, I'm not sure. Um..." He looks his boss up and down. "He's deteriorating, yes. There's a lot of blood." To us, "She's already on her way." 

"She drives like a lunatic," Levi says. His voice has an almost breathy quality to it, and his head droops. "She always does. Tell her to get off the phone so she doesn't get herself killed." 

Jean relays Levi's message. "Tell me to do something," I beg. 

Jean shoves the phone into my hand. "Call an ambulance." I punch in the number he relays with mechanical motions. The moment someone picks up, I rattle off our location and ask for an ambulance, please, someone I'm with got shot. Where? Maybe his heart, his chest for sure. I don't know if he can stay conscious, there's a lot of blood. Levi's eyes open and close, struggling to stay awake but not succeeding. Is somebody stopping the bleeding? Jean has both hands over the wound, so I guess so. I don't know if it's working, though. Levi's slid down the wall and his legs sprawl over the ground, his back planted against the brickwork to stay upright. Paramedics are on their way, stay where we are. 

Jean has ripped cloth from his jacket that he stuffs the gunshot wound with. Levi's eyes are closed. "Hey!" I shout, shaking his shoulder. "Levi, can you hear me?" No response. "We're losing him!" 

"Jesus Eren, I know!" Jean snaps. His hands shake as he finishes his first aid. "Someone's coming, right?" I nod. "We did everything we can. Now we have to make sure he's breathing when the doctors get here." Something occurs to him, and he swears again. "Damn, the sniper's still out there!" My blood runs cold. 

"Did you warn Hange?" 

"Yeah, she has reinforcements with her, so she should be able to take care of it. I hope she gets here before any civilians do." 

I feel completely helpless. We don't have any medical equipment or expertise, and the cloth Jean tried to stop the bleeding with turns crimson. Levi is slipping through our fingers. Jean is scared but relatively lucid. He's been through this before. I have too, but the last time somebody was bleeding out in front of me, they didn't make it. The barrage of memories - terror and shock, blood-slicked skin and the useless, horrified frustration of watching someone slip away, and not knowing how I can help - is too fresh in my mind and too applicable to Levi. I can’t watch this again, someone dying on the street. I don't know what to do if Levi ends up dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This baby is over a hundred pages, so it's the longest thing I've ever written. Thank you so much for all your support and sticking around to support it. You're awesome.


	17. Assimilation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end and the beginning, part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This baby surpassed a hundred pages and five hundred kudos. I'm so proud of it. Thank you all so much. I never expected to get this far into this fic and to have the amount of support I've gotten!

Hange arrives with reinforcements that eliminate the sniper. He’s positioned on the building across from the club. My guess is that Grisha placed him there to pick off any survivors.

The doctor drops down beside Levi, any trace of her usual playfulness abandoned. “Is there an exit wound?” She demands. 

“What?” I ask. 

“No,” Jean says. 

“A hole where the bullet left his body.” Hange purses her lips. “If there’s no exit wound, the slug is still inside of him.” She tears away some of the fabric over Levi’s chest, sending buttons everywhere. “Oh, wonderful. The entry wound is right over his heart.” My stomach drops. “Judging from the fact that he’s still breathing, I’d say the bullet didn’t puncture his heart. It’s either very close near it or a glancing blow.” Hange produces a first-aid kit from the back of her car. “Nice work with the cloth plug, Jean.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” 

Hange pours rubbing alcohol onto a cotton swab and cleans out the entry wound. “We need to do everything we can to prevent more blood loss. I’m going to suture the wound closed. Jean, come here and hold the wound closed for me.” Hange’s needle and thread are deft. Once the wound is sewn airtight, Hange bandages the area. I glance at the clock on Jean's phone over and over. My ears strain for the ambulance siren. 

When the paramedics do arrive torturous minutes later, the alleyway explodes into activity. The paramedics pull Levi out from under my hands. They ask about what, and why, and how long he’s been unconscious. Hange explains the situation while Jean puts one hand on my shoulder and pulls me away. “Come on, Eren,” He says, not unkindly. “We did everything we can.” That's true, but doing everything we can to save Levi and doing enough to save him are two different things. 

Hell is a harshly-lit waiting room and sitting in an uncomfortable chair with a dying man’s dried blood on my hands. Jean lets me stare at my hands for all of thirty seconds before he asks a nurse where the nearest bathroom is and helps me scrub the red out from under my fingernails. Turns out you have to clean blood off before it starts to dry, or it becomes persistent and sticky. “I’m getting coffee,” He says when we finish. “Do you want some? Something to eat?” I shake my head. “Okay, don’t go anywhere.” 

I sit in my chair alone until Hange settles beside me. “He’s in surgery.” She says. The remains of the of Frenchwoman's ponytail hang around her shoulders. She's gaunt and exhausted under the fluorescent lights. 

“What do the doctors think?” I ask. 

The undeniable truth fills the wide space between my question and Hange's answer. “It’s bad,” The doctor admits. “The doctors can remove the bullet, but they think Levi lost about two liters of blood. Most people don’t survive losing that much.”

“But there’s a chance,” I grab at her statement. “You said most people. Levi will be okay.”

“It’s possible,” Hange allows. “But not likely.” She squeezes my hand. "I have faith in him, Eren, but we have to acknowledge science." She sighs. "I need to call Isabel and Farlan. Kuchel, too." 

I feel like I barely hear anyone around me. Everything happened so suddenly - not that Levi, Jean and I walked away from a calm situation in the nightclub, but we didn't expect to be shot at. 

Sometime during our wait, I doze off. When I wake up. Hange and Mike are deep in conversation, speaking in hushed tones with their heads bent together. “-allons nous faire?” Hange murmurs. _(-we going to do?)_ “Isabel et Farlan pourraient être en danger –“ _(Isabel and Farlan could be in danger-)_

“Nous devons aussi penser à notre plan,” _(We also need to think about our plan.)_ Mike says. “Il n'est pas encore mort, Dieu merci, mais s'il succombe, tout le plan s'effondre,” _(He’s not dead yet, thank God, but if he does then the whole plan falls apart.)_

“Pas sûr,” _(I don’t know.)_ Hange says. “Celui qui remplacera Levi assurera son rôle,” _(The one who replaces Levi takes his role.)_

“Bien sûr, s'il veut bien le rôle,” _(Right, if they want his role.)_ Mike is tight-faced and unswayed. 

Jean presses a granola bar into my hand. “You haven’t eaten since this morning, Eren. No buts.” 

Reluctantly, I peel the wrapper open. “Any news?” Jean shakes his head. I slump in my seat. “How long have we been here?” 

“Almost three hours.” 

“Is that good or bad?” I ask. Jean shrugs. 

“Either Hange takes care of our wounds, or we patch them up ourselves. We don’t usually go to hospitals, and never for something this serious,” He explains. 

The clock ticks on. Doctors enter the waiting room, but they never talk to us. Some of the news they deliver to families is good, and expressions of apprehension and devastation morph into relief and joy. The unlucky families cradle each other and cry while the doctor hovers over them, unsure where to be or what to do. There’s no consoling such fresh loss. 

When a man in scrubs finals approaches up, I’m on my feet in seconds. Hange, Jean, Mike, and I press in on the messenger from all sides. “Seit ihr Levi Ackermans Familie?” _(Are you Levi Ackerman’s family?)_ He asks. 

“Ja,” I jump in. “Wie geht es ihm?” _(Yes. How is he?)_

The doctor smiles. “Er hat viel Glück. Die Kugel traf sein Herz mit einem Schlag und traf eine große Arterie. Wir waren nicht sicher, ob er überleben würde, aber er ist stabil.” _(He’s very lucky. The bullet struck his heart in a glancing blow and caught a large artery. We weren’t sure if he would survive, but he’s stable.)_

If it wasn’t for Hange rattling my shoulder, I would kneel over. “What’s he saying?” She demands. 

“Levi’s going to be okay. He’s stabilized right now.” Hange makes a sound caught between a laugh and a whimper. Mike shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“Can we see him?” Hange asks. I relay the question. 

“Ja, Sie dürften.” _(Yes, you may.)_

Levi is bleary in his hospital bed and has cords from four or five different machines running into him. His complexion is pasty, and his hospital gown hangs off of his frame. He looks very vulnerable and weak, especially compared to his normal appearance. 

If Levi hadn’t gotten out of surgery less than an hour ago, Hange would tackle him with a signature bear hug. The doctor settles for squeezing his hand with terrifying vigor. “Goddamnit Vi, that was close,” She breathes. Then she bursts into tears. 

Levi looks like he wishes he was still unconscious. “I swear, Hange. The day’s been miserable enough without you starting.” He pats her back. “I’m okay.” 

“I thought you were going to die, Sir,” Jean admits. The Frenchman smirks with an ugly wrench of his mouth. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

“I called your siblings,” Hange says. Levi winces. 

“They’ll be out of their minds." Levi frowns at me. 

“What?” I ask. 

“You’re staring. I didn’t turn into a frog or anything, right?”

“No. I’m glad you’re alright.” I’m almost giddy with relief. Levi being okay feels like some sort of forgiveness from the universe. 

“Thanks for not letting me bleed out before I got here,” Levi says quietly. 

“I didn’t do very much,” I object. Levi rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, I assumed so, but -,” His gaze turns alarmed. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

I shrug it off. It’s the truth. “It’s fine.” I know he isn’t trying to sting me. 

Levi averts his gaze. “Hange, Kirstein, thank you.”

“I’m not going to let you die in some back alley,” Hange murmurs. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Jean’s eyes are wide and slightly overwhelmed. 

“Thanks, Eren.” Levi says. Before I can say anything, he adds “Take the fucking compliment.” We’re both eager to back away from the topic of Levi’s injury, so I cave. There’s something dark behind his gaze that I know will haunt him long after we leave him alone. The raven looks around the room. “How long am I stuck in here for?” He asks nobody in particular. 

“At least a month,” Hange speaks up. Levi makes a noise of distaste. “Get used to it. You don’t get to gallivant around the city when you’re so full of holes you could pass as block of Swiss cheese.” 

“I got shot once,” Levi refutes. 

“It almost killed you, so shut up.” I interject. 

“Don’t sit here and sulk about it, either,” Hange adds. “Goddamn, there’s a difference between being tough and being an idiot.” 

“I have a metric fuck ton of painkillers in my system,” Levi marvels, “and I’m still getting a headache. I won’t try to escape the hospital to go home or someshit. Besides, I’m wearing one of those god-awful hospital gowns that barely covers my ass. I’m not about to expose myself to some poor nurse.” A horrified look crosses Levi’s features. “Do I have to take sponge baths?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Hange saves him. “We’ll talk to the doctors and see how long you have to stay. If we can coordinate with the hospital back home, then we can move you and continue treatment there. Erwin might come asking questions, but at least you’ll be in secure location. He can’t arrest you for getting shot.” She winks. “Not if that’s all he knows.” 

Someone bangs on the door. A moment later, none other than Kenny stalks into the room. His gaze sweeps over us while we sit in stiff silence, lingering on the equipment and his nephew in the bed. Hange’s grip on Levi’s hand is white. “You.” Kenny points to the doctor. “And you.” He gestures to Jean. “Get out.” 

The appearance of the Family head pops my joyful bubble. I’m very aware of my morality and precarious situation. Jean and Hange file out of the room, both once again grave-faced. Kenny closes the door behind them.

“Did you kill the men who did that to you?” He asks Levi.

“Hange’s team did, Sir.” Kenny grunts. 

“Now,” The man jabs a finger at me. “I’m mighty uncomfortable with your presence here, Eren.” 

“I don’t like you being here either,” I respond drily. Levi sends me a warning look over Kenny’s shoulder. 

Kenny laughs. “The thing is, Eren, I don’t know what to do with you. Your original purpose doesn’t matter anymore. Since I don’t much like the idea of you staying here, I’m not sure how I can put you to work. Seems to me like the best decision would be to get rid of you.” 

“Negotiate my return home with the U.S. government,” I suggest. Kenny grins. 

“Nah, I’m not stupid.” When he shifts his hip, a holster appears in the folds of his long coat. 

“Not here,” Levi speaks up. 

“No, not here,” Kenny agrees. “There are plenty of places nearby where people won’t look if they know what’s good for them.” Kenny shrugs. “It’s not personal, Eren. This is about being practical.” 

Fear and anger tighten my throat. “Fuck you,” I say. Kenny chuckles. 

“Make a scene and I promise you won’t go quickly.”

“Jesus Christ, stop it.” Levi says from his bed. 

“Do you have a better idea?” Kenny asks. He watches me the same way a wolf watches a deer. I feel a little like an animal, one caged and queued up for the slaughter.

“Maybe, if Eren agrees.” Levi shifts so he sits up straighter in his bed. “I’ll assume responsibility for him. Eren will work for me as one of my inferiors.” 

Kenny scoffs. “Eren will work for you? Do you think his sense of justice will let him to go along with that?” As much as I hate to admit it, I agree. I won't let Levi sic me on people like an attack dog.

“No, of course not. He’ll be my bodyguard.” 

“Where he has easy access to your person and could inflict harm whenever you let our guard down,” Kenny says. 

“He wouldn’t be by himself. He and Kirstein could work as a team. As for safety concerns, Eren would have shot me by now if he wanted to.” 

“If Eren stays in France and the wrong people see, the police will use him to build a case against us,” Kenny says. 

“Erwin already knows Eren’s here,” Levi counters. “He has Mikasa, too. If there’s going to be a case against us, it’s already in the works.” 

“This boy is a liability and a complication.” Kenny says lowly. “You’ll make him a witness and an accomplice.” 

“Either Eren dies or he stays.” Levi shrugs. “It’s his choice, I’m just giving him the option.” 

Kenny stares at his nephew for a long moment. “You’re very charitable today.” 

“If it comes out that the kid is dead, that’s going to raise a lot of difficult questions.”

“I know how to make people disappear,” Kenny promises.

“Sure, because you know the right people. How many of those people will help you once they realize that tensions with the Germans have escalated to firefights? You know how fighting makes everyone too shifty and opportunistic to be reliable. They want to look out for their own skins and make a buck off of whatever info they can get their hands on. Give your contacts a dead Eren Jäger," Levi continues, "and they’ll be on us like piranhas. Both ideas are risky. Mine is less complicated.” 

“Well,” Kenny says after a long pause. “Eren, what are you going to do?” There’s still a chance that he’ll go through with his original plan. If I don’t want any part of Levi’s world, I’m a dead man.

I’m dead, or I’m a criminal. I’m sure that if I escape, the media would paint me as a victim. Poor, hurt Eren, forced to protect monsters while helpless to do anything but look on. None of that would be true, and I want to live. Levi threw me a lifeline. Clinging to it chafes my hands, but I can’t afford to be choosy. 

“I think I’ll stay.” 

Kenny makes a sound like a growl. “You’re vouching for the boy, Levi,” He warns the man behind him. “If he fucks up, you’re cleaning the mess.” 

Levi’s shoulders sag in relief. “Yes, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now comes the fun stuff. ;)


	18. The Many Worlds Interpretation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How do you deal with what you do?" I beg him. "How do you live like this?" I need him to tell me that there's a way to let go of our sins, that there's a way to not feel miserable, and guilty, and haunted by the ghosts of the things we've seen and done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the new chapter eighteen. Those of you who read the old version know that it was very out-of-character for a few different people, and it put my cast in a position that would be difficult to get out of - I wrote myself into a corner, so to speak, and I wasn't true to the characters I developed. I was using a chapter outline that was old, and I was very stressed at the time I wrote the chapter, so I didn't question what I was doing until I posted it and realized I screwed up. I'm really sorry, this one's all on me. I've learned from the mistake, though, and it won't happen again. Other than that, thank you for all the nice comments (and for helping this baby break 600 kudos!!) and all the patience! I know it's been a while. I've been dealing with lots of projects, exams, and general end-of-the-semester hassles. It's only recently that I've really sat down and had some time to breathe and focus on this story. My summer is going to be busy, but I'm ready to give this fic my full attention! Thank you for sticking around for the ride.

My new bodyguard status requires a level of professionalism that I keep up for all of two minutes before Levi tells me to stop calling him 'Sir' behind closed doors. “I know you don’t mean it,” he tells me, “and you haven’t done it up until now, so I’m not about to start demanding it.”

Within a week, Interpol starts sniffing around the hospital. The resulting tensions are immediate and explosive. If Interpol can prove that Levi committed a crime, or at least convince a judge they have reason to believe he did, then the police can get ahold of his files. Then they'll be that much closer to arresting Levi. Plans to leave the country, already in the works, accelerate. It becomes more crucial than ever that I'm kept away from the hospital, and from agents that are looking for me. 

It takes a whole host of bureaucratic gymnastics to get out of Switzerland, but we slip back to France unaccosted. I'm immensely relieved to leave. It's strange that I think of the Ackerman house as my home, but it is. The embrace of my own bed and pillows is more comforting than I can say. It's a relief to be out of a bland, impersonal hotel room and back in my personalized space.

What's less comforting is sleep. Nightmares and fitful sleep aren't new for me, but after everything that happened in Zürich they're worse than ever.

I jolt awake in my bed, sweaty and shaken. I tear away my sheets, struggling to disentangle myself from the choking ropes of fabric, and stagger into the bathroom. Dropping to my knees in front of the toilet, I empty the contents of my stomach. Vomit, sour and caustic, burns my throat. After I empty my stomach, I dry-heave on the floor while I get my bearings.

All I can think about is the look on the face of the man I shot in that Zürich nigthclub. Right after I killed him, he looked so pained and shocked. At that point, though, any sapience he had was gone. He was dead when he hit the floor, and all the feeling in his eyes was that of a ghost. The thought makes me nauseous all over again, and I retch.

Someone knocks on the bedroom door. I pant, arms shaking with the effort of propping myself up on my arms and knees. A bead of sweat drips off my forehead and hits the tiles beneath me. The knocks come again, louder and more forceful than before. "Coming," I croak as loud as I can. I flush, wash my mouth and hands, and leave. Still dizzy and shaken, I stumble over to the door and open it to see Levi on the other side.

“Congratulations, Eren. Your ruckus overrode my meds.” He watches me like a hawk. "You screamed in your sleep."

“Sorry.” I sit back down on the mattress. “I had a dream.”

Levi hums. “One hell of a nightmare. What was it about?”

“Nothing." I don't want to revisit the look in the dead man's eyes any more than I already have. I don't want to reflect on the way I didn't think of him in that moment that he died, or in the many moments when Levi was in surgery. I didn't think he existed when I killed him in the nightclub, too high on wrath and adrenaline to see him as anything but an obstacle blocking my escape from death.

“I had surgery for a gunshot, Eren, not a lobotomy," Levi says. "My safety is your responsibility now, and anything that elicits such a strong reaction impedes your ability to protect me. I want to know what you dreamed about.” There's no frustration or anger in his tone, but he's firm. "I won't leave without an explanation."

“I killed a man,” I confess. “during the fight in Zürich. He aimed at me, so I shot him.” I pause. “Maybe it was non-fatal and he’s fine.”

“Did you see him move after you shot him?” Levi asks.

“No.” Maybe he did move after I left the room, though. "He might have, I'm not sure."

“Assume he’s dead,” Levi advises.

“I killed someone,” I repeat. There’s a strange, heavy feeling in my chest, like a tumor weighing down my soul.

“I heard you the first time.” Levi sighs. “I’m not saying it’s okay to go around killing people, but life isn’t sacred. You won’t wind up in hell. If it feels wrong," Levi continues, "that’s a good thing. It means you aren’t evil. There are people who would enjoy taking someone’s life. They spend their whole lives looking for someone to tear apart, because they think it’s the only thing they’re good at and that death is the only way they can have power. You shot that man because you wanted to survive. That’s not unnecessary or sadistic. I don’t think your mother is watching you now and ready to boil you alive because your brains aren’t all over the floor of a shitty nightclub." Levi's right, but I'm still troubled. "I don’t believe in God, or Heaven, or any of the other things preachers always go on about," Levi says. "I’m not concerned about karma and divine interventions. Sometimes you have to make hard choices to protect things that are important to you, and you have to trust that you're making the best possible choice. That's what you did, and that's all you could have done.”

"I can't let go," I say, "of the knowledge that the man _I_ killed had a reason he worked for my father. There was something he wanted and something he was trying to protect. Even if all he wanted was to live, and all he fought for was survival, I took that from him." I bow my head. "I have no right to take everything from him the way I did."

"Rights don't matter. All that mattered in that moment was that you were stronger than him." Levi's eyes darken, and he blows out a breath. "It was a traumatizing self-defense situation. You have to leave your thoughts about it there. It's okay to acknowledge how hard it was. It's okay to be in pain over it. You can't let it keep you up at night."

"How do you deal with what you do?" I beg him. "How do you live like this?" I need him to tell me that there's a way to let go of our sins, that there's a way to not feel miserable, and guilty, and haunted by the ghosts of the things we've seen and done.

Levi shrugs. "You drink, you get high, or you keep living. You do you have to do to survive. That's all there is to it." The stark reality of our options imbues me with hopelessness. "Or you convert to Catholicism," Levi allows, "but that's the last thing I would recommend. No jacking off, no fucking men - forget saving you from hell, that's damnation already." I laugh. "You have to find a way to move on. The guilt is suffocating, but the only way you'll get dragged down is if you keep obsessing over what you did. I... do what I can to redeem myself."

I've seen that fight for redemption in the moments that Levi is caring, or altruistic. I can admire it. "That's what I'd like to do, too," I agree.

Levi frowns. "You're setting yourself up for failure,"

"You're so optimistic all the time." The sweat cooling on my skin, paired with the breeze through the open window, makes me shiver. I flash him a smile. "I don't think anything you do is pointless."

 

\-----

"One of the nurses knew something was wrong with us," I tell Levi. He's recovering well, and Hange cleared him for everything but heavy lifting and strenuous exercise. He ends up taking a lot of walks to get some fresh air. Sometimes he's alone for his walks, but only when he's on family property. Never when he's in town, not when Grisha could still try to kill Levi to make a warning out of Kenny's ambitions. I pad several steps behind him in case someone decides to jump out from behind the nearest street corner and take a shot at him.

Grisha could try to make an example out of me, too, but Kenny doesn't care about me. An ugly part of me wants to prove the Ackerman boss wrong by becoming dangerous and valuable, but as much as I like the idea of spiting him, I won't do that.

"I came into the ER with a bullet wound from a military-caliber weapon, refused to explain how I got it, and then a whole host of my friends camped out in the hospital," Levi says. "Of course the poor nurse thought there was something wrong about us."

"He told me that firearms aren't allowed in the hospital," I say. The nurse had sounded so nervous when he said it, his jaw set in a determined line, feet poised to back away from me. "He never saw me with a gun, but he assumed I had one."

"You _were_ carrying a weapon," Levi points out. "And of course he assumed you had one, you were with us." He turns his head to look at me. "You're getting a taste of your own medicine, you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand. We stop at a streetlight. There aren't that many people out in the city today despite the fact that all the shops are open and it isn't a holiday. The people who are out don't linger in the park or by the fountain in the city center. It's like Erwin unearthed all the city politics its citizens were happy to ignore, and now everyone is nervous about getting caught in the crossfire between us and the new police commander.

Levi huffs. "When you came here, you did the same thing that nurse did."

It takes me a minute to figure out what he's saying. "Do you mean how much I loathed you?"

"Sure. Coming up to people and accusing them of wrongdoing while also being five seconds from pissing yourself."

I bristle. "I was never 'five seconds from pissing myself'."

Levi scoffs. "Sometimes you were. I was never sure if I should be angry with you or if I should accept the fact that you were going to be a little shit."

"You were almost always mad at me," I point out.

"Now you know why," Levi says. "And now you know what it felt like to be in my shoes."

"Whatever." I fold my arms over my chest to ward off the cold. I'm amazed how chilly it is in the city today. It's South France, but based on the temperature you'd think we were down with the penguins in Antarctica. "Hey, do you know if Kenny wants war with Grisha?" Levi frowns.

"I hope not, but Kenny's in a bad position. Now that we've been attacked, it's going to be difficult to justify not fighting back. If we don't do anything, we look either weak or incompetent." Levi's scow deepens. "The last thing anyone needs is more conflict. We never should have tried to infringe on Grisha's territory." He scans the city's bare streets. "It's such a stupid idea."

"You don't know for sure what your uncle's planning?" I press.

"Nobody knows." Levi give me a look. "Why, do you want to rip Grisha a new asshole or something?"

"I don't want anything to do with my dad," I say. "I wish he was a different person." Back when Mom was alive, I felt a little removed from my other friends, especially when I met their dads, but I didn't feel like my family was incomplete. I didn't resent the fact that Grisha wasn't with us, I resented him because he made Mom so afraid, and because he would use his own son as a tool if he ever got his hands on me. "I used to spend a lot of time thinking how things could be different," I admit. Now it’s not only my father who I’ve come face-to-face with, but my brother. Is Zeke even my sibling, or is that as much one of Grisha’s lies as me not being his son? He can’t be Mom’s kid, so whose son is he? If Zeke was Mom's full-blooded son and had lived with her and I, I would have had someone who I could share my experience with, someone else who knew Mom was more than a paranoid single mom with a chip on her shoulder. That could have been everything. Someone else to help protect us. Someone to be a reassurance. Someone older than me who could help me help Mom keep us safe. A potential role model. A friend.

My thoughts remind me of one of Armin's lessons. “Armin told me once that there's an interpretation of quantum mechanics which says there's an infinite number of universes. Since it's inevitable that some of them contain events that have already happened, there could be a separate reality for every choice we make. Like with me crossing the street - if I wait for the walker sign to come on before crossing, that's one reality. There's also a reality in which I don't wait for the walker sign to come on. Each choice is like a fork in reality and leads to a separate future. So, there has to be a world in which Mom, Grisha, and I are a normal family. I'm never going to get to interact with that reality, but it exists, and that's comforting to think about.”

"It exists theoretically," Levi emphasizes. "It's a nice thought. Don't tell that to the poor couple we have to go see though," He adds dryly. “I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Ral will be comforted by the knowledge that a living version of their daughter theoretically exists.”

My stomach turns. “Right.” Levi wants to go see Petra’s parents and tell them she’s dead. I feel like there’s water coming to a boil underneath me, or that the sky is creeping lower and lower until it crushes me against the earth - a sense of impending doom. I don't want to go see Petra's parents. Hell, it never occurred to me to me that Petra had a mom and dad. A full set of parents isn't exactly guaranteed in this neck of the woods, and I didn't want to be intrusive and ask about her family.

"This is how I make some sort of closure," Levi says. "You don't have to say anything. You weren't responsible for her. All you have to do is your job and look threatening."

"Levi..."

"If I don't do this, her parents will root through the city looking for their daughter. The last thing we need to for them to go to the police because they think Petra's missing."

"You don't have to validate what you're doing," I say. “I understand.” A part of me is glad that I’m here, too. I regret not looking out for her - hell, I regret not looking out for any of the other Ackermans who died. I was too busy watching my own ass to care that everyone else was a target.

The residential building we stop in front of is a little run down, with peeling paint and a sagging doorframe. Levi presses the buzzer by the name Ral. "Qui est lá?" _(Who's there?)_ A woman's voice crackles over the intercom.

"C'est Ackerman. Est-ce que je peux entrer ? Vous n'avez pas de problèmes." _(It's Ackerman. Can I come in? You aren't in trouble.)_

The line cuts out. We stand on the doorstep for a moment. It comes back on again, and the woman's voice murmurs to someone on the other end of the line. The other person raises their voice. Another pause. A man's resigned voice comes over the line. "D'accord, montez." _(Alright, come in.)_

The door buzzes and opens with a click. Nobody's in the apartment building's hallways, but objects clutter the stairs and halls. As we climb higher and higher, we pass a children's scooter, someone's laundry on a drying rack outside their door, and a cat watching a pigeon that must have bumbled in through an open window.

The Rals have an apartment on the top floor. My feet feel heavy as we approach the door at the end of the hallway, but I force myself onward. Levi said I wasn't responsible for Petra, but that's not true. I feel like I’m walking to an executioner.

Levi knocks once before an elderly woman throws the door open. She surveys us both with narrowed eyes, keeping the door wedged between us and her as much as she can. She reminds me of a mouse surveying an approaching cat, furtive and ready to bolt. "Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?" _(What do you want?)_ She asks.

"J'aimerais mieux ne pas en parler dans le couloir." _(I'd rather not talk in the hallway.)_ Levi answers. The woman wavers. I don't blame her - she doesn't have a reason to trust us. Levi might have said she wasn't in trouble, but that's not a guarantee. We all know full well that she has very little power over us. Anything Levi and I want, we could take, and she wouldn't be able defend herself.

"S'il vous plaît laissez-nous entrer," I say. _(Please let us in.)_ "C'est important." _(It's important)_.

The woman puckers her lips. One hand grips the doorknob until her knuckles turn white. I lock eyes with her, trying to implore her to let us come in. She studies me for a long moment. Then she opens the door wider. We step into the small but well-kept living space. A grizzled man turns to look at us from an armchair. One of his legs, locked in a brace, rests propped up on a stool. "Merci." I thank the woman - Petra's mother, I presume.

"C'est à quel sujet?" _(What's this about?)_ The man asks. He tries to stand up, but his braced leg wobbles and he sinks back into the chair. "Nous ne voulons pas faire partie de vos magouilles, Monsieur Ackerman" _(We don't want any part of your plotting, Mr. Ackerman.)_

"Petra est une bonne fille, et nous sommes reconnaissants que vous lui offriez la possibilité de gagner sa vie d'elle-même." _(Petra is a good girl, and we are grateful that you make sure she has opportunities to make a living for herself,)_ the woman rectifies, "mais s'il vous plaît, n'essayez pas de nous impliquer dans son travail." _(But please do not try to involve us in her work.)_

"C'est à propos de Petra." _(It's about Petra)_. Every word comes from Levi's mouth like a bullet. His expression is unreadable, but there's something grim and mournful in his gaze. The couple pales.

"Ne me dites pas que vous l'avez envoyée déménager à l'étranger," Petra's father says. _(Don't say you're making her move.)_ "Elle nous a dit qu'elle quittait le pays pour quelques temps, pas qu'elle partait définitivement." _(She said she had to leave the country for a little while, and don't say she left permanently.)_ Surveying the couple, they both look scared - pale, and the mother's face slackens with dawning understanding.

"Non," Levi says, "elle ne reviendra pas. _(No, she isn't comming back.)_ Actuellement, je n'ai pas son corps en ma possession, bien qu'il y ait peut-être encore moyen qu'il puisse être identifié et qu'il vous soit envoyé. J'en doute, cependant. Je suis vraiment désolé. C'était une femme exceptionnelle. Elle avait toujours désiré vous protéger, et elle vous aimait beaucoup. _(I don't have her body right now, either, although it may still be identified and returned to you. I doubt it, though. I am very sorry. She was a phenomenal woman. The only thing she ever wanted was to protect you, and she loved you very much.)_

His words sound empty in the silence of the room, confronted with grief and horror. The faces of both parents crumple. Petra’s mother lets out the wail of a wounded animal. Her father grips the TV remote so tightly, I’m amazed he hasn’t broken it. Now that any uncertainty about Petra's whereabouts is extinguished, the only thing left for her parents to do is struggle with their daughter's death. "Qu'est-ce que vous lui avez fait faire?" _(What did you make her do?)_ Mr. Ral demands. Levi dips his head.

"Je ne peux pas vous en parler." _(I can't talk about that)_

The man's face twists in anger. “Petra est ma fille. Dîtes-moi.” _(Petra is my daughter. Tell me.)_. Mr. Ral watches Levi like he wants to throw him out the window. He looks like some mixture of anger and resolution, like he was afraid all along that something might happen to his daughter and now that he’s right, he doesn’t know what to do but explode.

Silence falls on the room. If Mr. Ral lashes out at Levi, it’s my job to stop him. Never mind how much pain he’s in. This is an ugly situation.

“A chaque fois qu'on lui demandait de trouver un autre travail, de vous laisser, elle nous répondait que non, certains malfrats sont bons. 'Levi n'est pas si mauvais. Tout ira pour le mieux.' Et vous ne pouvez même pas nous ramener son corps.” _(Every time we asked Petra to look for another job, to leave you, she would tell us, no, some of those thugs are alright. 'Levi isn't so bad. Things will get better.' You can’t even bring back a corpse)_. Mr. Ral spits on the carpet. “J'espère qu'un jour, les corbeaux te boufferont comme ils doivent la bouffer en ce moment-même.” _(I hope one day the crows eat you like they’re eating her now)._

Levi braces his shoulders like he’s trying to stand in a storm, his eyes fixed on the man like breaking his gaze would be losing a fight. There’s no retreating in on himself, not here, and not now. He forces himself to be present and take the brunt of Mr. Ral’s beating. None of the hits are directed at me - I’m just a shadow - but each barb reverberates through me. Remembering the conversation I had with Levi last night, I know that under different circumstances, it could be me in Levi's position and my victim's family in the Rals'.

When Mr. Ral turns back to turn on the TV with shaking hands, both disgust and dismissal wrack his face. “Sors de mon appartement.” _(Get out of my apartment)._ He says. Petra’s mother sobs. Levi dips his head. There’s no more - no final condolences, no last-minute gratitude for their time. More of any of that would be empty.

Even after Levi passes through the doorframe, I hover in it uncertainty. “Je suis désolé,” _(I’m sorry)_ I say, knowing the words might be more for my closure than theirs, but I want to try. To express the role I had to play. “C'est aussi de ma faute.” _(It’s my fault too.)_

Petra’s father surveys me with a blank gaze. So does her mother. They don’t say anything. I follow Levi out the door. We don’t speak to each other on our way down the steps. We don’t utter a word when we move out the door of the building and down the street. Our breathing is too loud in the silence.

“Are you going to visit your other unit members’ families?” I ask. Levi shakes his head.

“There’s nobody waiting for them,” Levi says. "I miss them as much as I miss Petra, though." He looks a million miles away. “Petra’s father injured his leg during his factory work,” He says. “It was the company's fault. They hadn’t gotten the machine approved for use, and it malfunctioned. They could have gotten in big legal trouble. When Mr. Ral tried to sue, they told him they’d send someone after his wife and kids if he insisted on bringing the case to court.”

My stomach drops. “That’s horrible.”

“Petra was twelve. Mr. Ral dropped the case, but even then, he couldn’t find work. The factory fired him once he revealed himself to be a potential whistleblower. No one else would hire him - the job market was tight at that point, and there were three other men more willing to look the other way for their employer at every place he applied. The company ruined him.” Levi curls his lip. “They spread the word not to give him a position anywhere, or else. The Rals struggled for a while, and then Petra followed my men on a job and demanded a position so that she could help her parents.”

“And that’s how she started working for you,” I say. Levi hums.

“Her parents were always afraid I was going to get her hurt.” He sighs. "We have to take care of them. Give them some cash, or a way to find some work. We have to give them some sort of compensation."

"Good luck getting Kenny on board with that," I point out.

"Fuck Kenny. He'll get his due. The company that crippled Petra's father closed down a few years later, you know." He huffs and half-smiles. "It looks like karma is going to get all of us after all."

“I don’t like seeing you in pain,” I say as we wait for the traffic light to change. “I don’t like it when everything is your fault.”

Levi snorts. “I deserved everything the Rals said to me.” The bags under his eyes are heavy and bruise-colored.

“Yeah, but by that logic, so did I.” The light changes. We cross the street. “So did Kenny, and Jean, and everyone else who made her come to Zürich or didn't save her. You aren't including the person who directly killed her in your distribution of blame. If anyone is most at fault, it's them. We didn't try to hurt her. They did." I turn to him, my gaze accusing. "Do you remember everything you said last night? Where did those sentiments go?"

Levi scowls. "That was a different situation."

"A bit, yeah," I admit, "but you're attaching all the guilt to yourself, and that's exactly what you got frustrated with me for doing. You weren't actively trying to hurt her. You couldn't have known Petra would die. Don't be so hard on yourself. You aren't a hypocrite, so you have to know that you're being stupid, but please be a little easier on yourself." I take a deep breath. Levi watches me with wide eyes. "I’m sorry, Levi. You shouldn't feel like the whole world is on your shoulders. I'm on your side, Levi.” I press. "Let me help you."

“Eren, please stop.” I turn to question him. He watches our feet eat up the pavement. “You mean well, but please stop. Nothing is going to change.”

I’m not angry at him for these sorts of despairing statements anymore. It makes my heart break. Here’s a survivor, a fighter, and all he wants to do is keep himself and the people he loves from getting crushed by the machine that is his family. He wants to keep existing until he kneels over and dies, which, given how he almost died in Zürich, could be sooner rather than later. There’s so much love in him - I know he would disagree, but it’s true - and I want him to be happy. In the moments when Levi swears at Kenny, and in the moments when he ignores his uncle's wishes, I have hope that he'll break free of his cage. "Fine. I'll help you anyways, though, you know that? I'm not going to let you wallow in misery."

Levi looks away, his face a jumble of emotions. "There's a Greek myth," I recall, "about how the titan Atlas fought against the gods and was punished by holding up the sky so it didn't crush the Earth. Every minute of every day, he strains against the weight of the heavens. Every second of his burden, Atlas manages to hold the weight of the sky, but it's never clear whether he can continue to hold it up. It's a constant battle. Personally," I continue, "I don't think Atlas can hold up the sky forever. Either his crimes are forgiven and someone else takes his place, or he stays at his post until he breaks down and gets crushed under the weight of his burden." I smile. "You're in Atlas' position, Levi, and I don't care how heavy your burden is, I'll take it anyways." 

Levi lets out his breath is a whoosh. "You can't say that, Eren. You don't know what you're asking for." 

"Then tell me what I'm asking for," I say. 

"It's not that simple." Levi's mouth quirks ruefully. "I'm tied up in a lot of horrible things" 

"I don't think you're evil, Levi. I don't think you want to hurt people because you're power-hungry, or because you're a sadist. I know what you're afraid of." Levi turns to me like I said I would put spiders in his mouth while he sleeps, his face tightening. "I don't want you to be afraid of Kenny. I don't want you to be afraid of losing your family." My voice turns steely. "Don't treat me like I'm a naive little boy with white wings and a halo. I'm not stupid, and I can handle ugly things." 

"At the very least," I say, "let me help you so you don't end up dropping your burden and crushing everyone around you. What do you think will happen to Isabel and Farlan down the road? They'll always be tethered to your family. They'll always be threatened by your enemies. I want to help you get away from this world." 

"I - I do want that," Levi croaks. "But what plans do you have? How are you going to take us - everyone who wants to - away?" He laughs, sharp and bitter. 

I laugh too, relieved that he caved and still a little frustrated. "I don't know yet, but I'll figure something out." 

Around us, it starts to snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a quote from a book by Cassandra Clare where one of her characters, when asked about how he handles immortality, says, "You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is all." When I wrote Levi in the beginning of this chapter, he reminded me of that moment.
> 
> Please leave me some comments! You guys have been through a lot dealing with this fic and my schedule, so again, thank you so much. I know at this point I probably sound like a broken record, but the support this story gets is incredibly motivating, and it makes me so happy. The nest update should be up very soon. :)


	19. The Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the first time I said an update would be out "soon" and actually came through. I'm proud of myself.
> 
> In other news, a few nights ago I went looking for some fics recs on fuckyeahererifanfic and saw that someone asked about this baby. It's a surreal feeling, but I'm really happy that someone actively sought DSM out.

Hange probes the edges of my stitches. “These are healing really well,” She says. “You should be good to go back to your normal schedule in a few weeks.” 

“Thank fuck for that,” I groan. Being able to return to heavy lifting will be a huge relief. Any more time spent losing muscle mass, and I’ll be scrawny as well as short. It’s not a good combination to inspire obedience from subordinates, and it’s not flattering. 

“Which isn’t to say that you can go back to normal right away,” Hange cautions. “Work your way back up to your full workload.”

“I know,” I tell her. “This isn’t my first time recovering from a bullet wound.” 

Hange frowns. “No, but it’s the first time that you’ve been _this_ close-,” she holds her thumb and index finger millimeters apart - “from dying. Be more careful in the future, please.”

“It’s time to take extra precautions,” I agree. I didn’t enjoy my near-death experience any more than anyone close to me did, and I know how lucky I was. 

“Wear a bulletproof vest,” Hange says. “You can’t scare me this badly again.” Her gaze is equal parts fear and determination. “You have no idea what it felt like to call Isabel while you were in surgery and tell her you might never come home. You don’t know what it was like to have to tell Farlan he couldn’t talk to you because you were in a surgery you might not survive. I had to call Kuchel, Levi. If I had said two more words about how serious your condition was, she would have forced her way onto the next plane to Zürich and come to see you for herself.”

I stare at my hands. I know my family was terrified for me when I was shot. I spoke to them, post-op, before my pain meds kicked in. They cried as much in relief as they did with terror. I can’t imagine what Farlan, Izzy, Hange, and Maman, consumed by horror and what-ifs about my fate, felt like when they didn’t know if I would make it. 

“If the bullet wasn’t for me,” I say, “who would it be for? Eren? Jean? It’s better that it was for me.”

Hange shakes her head. “You don’t want to be a martyr, Levi.” 

_“Thank God you’re alive,”_ Maman had told me when I was in the hospital, the worst of the pain meds starting to wear off. _“You’re lucky, Levi, and you’re so strong, and your doctors are very good.” I waited for the ‘but’. This conversation is familiar, and there’s always a ‘but’. “But you don’t give me very much comfort beyond that, Levi. The last time you got hurt, in the fight you and Reiner had in Lyon with the supplier from the Zetas, you got shot in the thigh and the slug almost hit your femoral artery.” Tears clogged her voice. I hadn’t told her about how close I’d been to bleeding out. Damn Hange. “I was so grateful you were alright and so scared that next time you got hurt, it would be a closer call.” She laughed, the sound choked and a little hysterical. “And now you almost got a bullet through your heart. There’s no closer to dying than that. I don’t know how you think you can cheat death when you get nearer and nearer to it!”_

_“I’m always going to be alright, Maman,” I tried to reassure her. “I’m always coming back safe. Trust me, please. You don’t need to worry about me.”_

_“Levi Hugo Ackerman, don’t you dare tell me not to worry about you!” I winced at the explosion. I’m your mother, goddamnit, and I’ll worry about you as much as I need to!”_

We have the same argument every time I get hurt, but this time the desperation and frustration in her voice had been stronger than ever before. _“You and I both know that so much of who lives and who dies in this business is about luck. You’re - gambling with your life.” Her voice cracked. “Please Levi, I can’t take this much longer.”_

“What else am I supposed to do?” I ask Hange. 

“Stay out of the action,” She urges. “You’re not a low-level fighter, Levi. Stay home and let someone else do the grunt work, please.” Maman said the same thing.

“I can’t stay home all day working with him and going to meetings with him and his cronies.” I won’t give my uncle the satisfaction of molding and grooming me into a clone of himself the way he so keenly wants. The way he thinks he needs to mold me to be a worthy successor. “Besides, I’m not sending anyone out to die in my place.” Not when people already die for me enough already. 

“I thought you’d say something like that,” Hange says. 

When I step out of the examination room of Hange’s clinic, I find Eren staring out the window of the waiting area. “Everything healing okay?” He asks. I nod. “Good.” He smiles and turns back to the window. “I can’t believe it’s snowing outside,” He says, green eyes wide with wonder. He doesn’t look much like a kid anymore, not after all he’s filled out and not with the new hardness behind his eyes, but in this moment, he looks so enraptured that he reminds me of a child. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes so full of wonderous delight, not even when he was reunited with his stupid dog. It suits him. 

“Me neither,” I say. Snow has fallen on and off over the last couple of days. “I’m not sure it’s ever snowed in Karanse while I’ve lived here, but that’s global warming for you.” 

Eren laughs. “I guess so.” We bid Hange a last goodbye and step out into the snow-dusted parking lot. Eren’s smile turns a little wistful as he slides into the car’s passenger seat. “It’s beautiful, though. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any snow.”

Him and I both. It snowed a little bit when Maman and I lived up by Taverny, but that feels like a separate lifetime. It’s been at least twenty-five years since then. I wince at the revelation. Fuck, that makes me feel so old. I feel a pang of nostalgia. Some of my childhood memories feel like they happened yesterday, and some of them 

“It always snowed in winter back home,” Eren remembers with a smile. “The one problem is that it always got really icy at the same time, so even though the snow was deep, sometimes it got too dangerous to drive out and find a place to go sledding. We didn’t have any good sledding hills in walking distance of our house, so Mom and I got screwed that way. It was still fun to go build forts and snowmen and that sort of thing, though. We had a ditch by the road near our house, and one year it rained buckets one day and dropped into the negative degrees the next.”

I wince. “Your weather was insane.”

Eren laughs. “Yeah, but at least if you didn’t like the weather one moment, chances were it would change in the next ten minutes. Anyways, the ditch froze over. The ice holed us in for two days, and since I got cabin fever I went out and tried to ice-skate on the ditch. It hadn’t frozen over completely, so I fell through the ice. The water went up to my waist, and it was so cold, it sucked all the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t get out of it.” He shudders. “It was awful. I started screaming and crying, and if Mom hadn’t been listening for me, I might have gotten really sick.” 

I frown. “That’s rough.”

“I got a cold afterwards,” Eren admits. “It’s funny. That day is one of those memories that’s horrible in the moment, but you laugh about it later.” His smile fades. “Mom was so mad. I mean, she was worried about me, but she also wanted me to know I was an idiot. You’re sort of like her that way. She came out and told me, ‘Eren, are you trying to become an icicle? Those are only for knocking off of the roof.’ That’s exactly what she said. She had this blue parka on that she’s had forever. She had it when you showed up, too, but it was too warm then for her to wear it.” 

Eren looks a million miles away. We pull into my driveway. 

“What do you have to work on today?” Eren asks. His effort to shake away his reverie is visible, but the haunted look in his eyes remains. 

“I have to speak with the Lyon exec,” I say. “I doubt he’s here yet, though.”

“Is Jean going to be in the meeting with you, or me?” Eren asks. 

“You can do it this time,” I decide. 

“Really?” Eren sounds so dubious. 

“No, you’re actually going to sit by the open kitchen window with a flyswatter and kill any insects that try to get inside. Yes, you’ll come into the meeting.”

I don’t usually involve Eren in my dirty work. Jean was always the one who was past saving, and Eren wasn’t the one I would trust to keep his head if a meeting turned heated. That said, I can’t fault Eren’s statement in the city several days ago. There isn’t much to be lost or damaged in having him sit in on my more unpleasant work, not when he’s here to stay. 

“I think you can take it. You don’t have white wings and a halo, right?” Eren huffs with laughter. “You’re here to stay.”

Eren’s smile takes on an edge. “Well. Stay until I get out.”

I hiss. “Attention, les murs ont des oreilles.” _(Careful, the walls have ears.)_

“Gut. Dann kann ich so reden.” _(Fine, then I can talk like this.)_ I shake my head. 

“I don’t understand a word of that,” I say.

Eren nods. “Genau darum geht es.” _(That’s the whole point.)_

Little twit. “Parle allemand autant que tu le veux, mais ça ne t'aidera pas ici.” _(Speak German as much as you want, but it won't help you here.)_

Eren laughs. “Tu n'aimes pas ça, quand tu ne me comprends pas,” He taunts. _(You don't like it when you can't understand me.)_ I don’t need to understand Eren to catch the teasing lilt in his voice. 

“Peu importe ce que tu as dit, je doute que ce soit vrai.” _(Whatever you said, I doubt it's true)_ Eren shrugs. 

“Fine,” He switches back to his native language. “You can tell yourself that.” He tilts his head to one side like an inquisitive dog. “English isn’t your first language, but you don’t speak with a French accent. How did you learn it?”

“Intensely, and when I was young,” I answer. I would have learned it anyways, since English is the international language, but Maman wanted me to keep my career options open, and bilingualism had seemed like the easiest way to achieve that goal besides getting a good education. 

“Oh, that’s cool.” Eren tails behind me. “That’s like me with German. If I had only learned in high school, I don’t think I’d be fluent, not with how badly the American school system teaches foreign languages.” 

“That isn’t your strong point,” I agree. “I suppose that’s what happens when everyone learns your language, though. You don’t need to be smart as long as the world looks up to you.” I snort. “Although with your political state, you might not be a role model for much longer.” 

Eren sighs. “That’s true.” 

In my office, Eren frowns and taps the glass of the window behind me. “This is right behind your head. Isn’t it a security risk? Someone could shoot you through the window easily if they were a good enough sharpshooter.”

“No, it’s bullet-resistant. Apparently, when my great-grandfather used this office someone shot him through the window and almost hit his aorta. After that, they replaced the window with bullet-resistant glass. There haven’t been any other attempts.” I frown. “It’s frowned upon to try to kill someone in this business when they’re home with their family, really, but sometimes it happens. It’s just one of those things people are averse to because they have a little bit of empathy and don’t want to have the same thing happen to them.” There aren’t a lot of things like that, though. Not when working with the crime families is life-or-death. 

“Have you done it?” Eren turns to watch me.

“Killed someone in front of their family?” I ask. 

“Yes.” Eren looks intent.

“Yes,” I confess. Eren nods. He isn’t surprised, but he does look troubled. “A small insurgent group started up in Nice about four years ago. They tried to intercept our shipments and sell them for themselves and went around telling people that we weren’t in control of the districts in the city we shook down anymore. Then they went around collecting protection money and setting up their own operations – gambling, dogfighting, prostitution rings, that sort of thing. We tried to corner the brains behind the operation, but he was slicker than an oiled slug. We could only corner him when he was home in bed, so one night Jean, Bertholdt – he’s a really good shot -, a couple other guys, and I did a drive-by and blew the bedroom to smithereens.”

It's foreign to be open about the things I’ve done. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself to revisit my crimes instead of briefly reflecting on them and packing then away in some remote corner of my mind, never to be visited again. Sharing those memories now is enough to make a part of me recoil. I don’t want to be reminded of the awful things I’ve done, especially things like this particular act.

I monitor Eren’s expression. He doesn’t look afraid, and he doesn’t look disgusted, but he does look profoundly perturbed. “I’m not sure the wife died, but he had a young son.” I can’t begin to imagine the world the boy entered when he woke up, but I know firsthand what it’s like for your life with your parents to be turned upside down, and the idea of anyone feeling that way, let alone experiencing that fear and loss because of me, makes me sick to my stomach. "You wanted me to tell you this shit, right? This is what you get.” 

“Do you regret doing it?” Eren asks. 

“Yes.” I lean back in the office chair. “I never think that people are alone in their lives and don’t have anyone to grieve them,” I’m too aware of the fact that I don’t fit that stereotype to forget that it doesn’t apply to everyone, “but when everyone around you says that what you do is necessary for your survival, that being perceived as strong and vengeful is the best way to stay at the top of the pecking order where all the resources are, it’s easy to see anyone who loves the dead as collateral damage.” 

Eren is quiet for a moment. “That’s what I am. Collateral damage.”

“Nobody is ‘collateral damage’,” I say. “The only people who like knowing that the things they hurt are human being are the sick ones. Everyone else dehumanizes their victims to feel better about themselves.” No matter what names killers use, though, they’re hurting people. There’s no way around that fact.

“Sir?” Nikolas opens the door. “Mr. Braun is here to see you.” 

Every time I see the towering blonde, I’m amazed that he can fit through the doorway. Reiner’s gaze flits briefly to Eren, who watches him like a hawk. A few months ago, the comparison would be laughable – Reiner, a silverback gorilla of a man, and a tall but lanky boy with a physique that’s due more to low body fat than muscle. Now that Eren filled out, the comparison is much more equal.

Reiner nods to me. “C'est un plaisir de vous voir, monsieur Ackerman. Merci pour votre temps.” _(It's good to see you, Mr. Ackerman. Thank you for your time.)_

“De même. Qu'est-ce qui est aussi important pour que vous vouliez me voir en personne?” I ask. _(Likewise. What is so important that you wanted to see me in person?)_

“M. Ackerman pensait qu'Annie allait voir la police et leur transmettait des informations sur la Famille,” Reiner says. _(Mr. Ackerman thought Annie was going to the police and giving them information about the family.)_ “C'est une vieille amie à M. Fubar et moi-même, et je voudrais savoir si elle allait être punie d'une quelconque façon.” _(She is an old friend of mine and Mr. Fubar's, and I would like to know if she'll be punished in any way.)_

Considering everything that happened in the last month, I forgot about my uncle’s search for moles and his subsequent interrogation of Annie Leonhardt. I haven’t seen her recently, though, which doesn’t reassure me that she’s fine. 

“Punie?” I elect to say. _(Punished?)_ “Pensez-vous qu'elle a fait quelque chose mal?” _(Do you think she did something wrong?)_

“Au contraire,” Reiner answers. _(The opposite.)_ "Je ne doute pas de son innocence. Je ne veux pas que quelqu'un soit puni pour quelque chose qu'il n'a pas fait.” _(I have no doubt that she is innocent. I don’t want her to be punished for something she didn’t do.)_

“Non, je ne le souhaite pas non plus,” I agree. _(No, I don’t want that either.)_ “ J'avoue qu'Annie n'a pas été mon problème le plus urgent récemment.” _(I admit that Annie hasn't been my most pressing concern recently.)_

A muscle ticks in Reiner’s jaw. “Non bien sûr que non,” He says. _(No, of course not.)_ “Vous avez eu quelques semaines pénibles.” _(You’ve had a trying couple of weeks.)_

I don’t like knowing that people are disappearing more or less on my uncle’s whim. It’s not unheard of for people to go missing suddenly (as if there’s any way to go missing that isn’t sudden), but it’s nevertheless troubling to know that it’s happening so close to me. “Merci de me le rappeler,” I say. _(Thank you for reminding me.) _“Je vais gérer la situation à partir d'ici.” _(I’ll handle it from here.)___

__“Avec tout le respect que je vous dois,” Reiner says, _(With all due respect,)_ “Je crains que vous gériez la situation de la même façon que vous gérez celle concernant l'arrestation de Mikasa, et qu'il n'en résultera rien.” _(I’m afraid you’ll ‘handle it’ like you’re handling Mikasa’s capture, and nothing will happen.)_ I stiffen._ _

__“Nous nous acharnons à la faire libérer,” I say. _(We are working to free her.)_ I don’t know how much Reiner sees me as my uncle’s dog, but I have little interest in leaving my allies to face enemies alone. _ _

__“Bien. Elle a offert beaucoup à cet organisme, et il serait dommage qu'elle soit abandonnée à son sort.” _(Good. She's given a lot to this organization, and it would be unfortunate if she was abandoned.)_ _ _

__“C’est vrai,” I agree. _(Indeed)_ “Si c'est tout ce dont vous vouliez discuter, alors nous en avons terminé,” I dismiss him. _(If that is all you wanted to discuss, then we're done here.)__ _

__Reiner inclines his head. “Je vous remercie,” He says. _(I appreciate it)_ With that, he and his guards exit the office._ _

__Eren frowns. “I didn’t like the way he spoke about Mikasa. It sounded very… I don’t know what it is.”_ _

__“Pointed,” I supply._ _

__“Mmmm,” Eren agrees. “It makes me nervous.”_ _

__There’s always a bit of mind games accompanied with meetings with high-ranking family members, but Eren’s right, and this talk in particular puts me off. I try to shake off the feeling, but my wariness lingers. “I completely forgot about Annie Leonhardt.”_ _

__“She’s the girl who missed the police bugs in your office, right?” I nod. “Your uncle thought she planted them.”_ _

__“She could have.” I’m not going to rule anybody out. Annie never caused problems, not causing problems might have been her way of staying under the radar. “It would be weird if it was her, though, considering how long she’s been with the family. Reiner and Bertholdt have been around for a long time, and if she’s an old friend then she’s been involved at least almost as long as they have.”_ _

__What really irks me is how confrontational Reiner was. “He should know not to question the choices his higher-ups make,” I say. “I don’t know why Braun would think it’s appropriate to come see me in person and demand the whereabouts of a woman who doesn’t even work directly underneath him.”_ _

__Eren shrugs. “You’d do the same thing if it was Petra or Gunther in Annie’s position.”_ _

__“That’s true,” I admit. “Do you have any idea where Annie is?” When Eren sends me a strange look, I clarify, “I don’t know what sort of stories get spread around in the kitchen. You spend more time with the staff down there than I do.”_ _

__“Right.” Eren looks thoughtful. “I don’t know, I guess maybe Jean might know. I haven’t spent as much time talking to the other staff as I used to.” His expression turns remorseful. “I think I’m a bit out of the loop with all the news going around -,”_ _

__“And all the gossip,” I add. “The stories people come up with are embarrassments. We’re supposed to be professionals, for god’s sake, not schoolchildren.” Eren shrugs._ _

__“Some of the gossip is true,” He says. “Anyways, maybe she’s alright and I just don’t know about it.” I nod. Fair enough. “Either way, I want answers. People shouldn’t disappear out of the blue.”_ _

__“That makes two of us.” It’s never good when tensions in the family run high. Besides the turmoil and bloodshed that comes with the inevitable disappearance of one person or another, the vanishings bring a whole new host of problems with them regardless of whether or not they’re questioned. Namely finding reliable replacements to fill now-empty positions that are vulnerable to infiltration or sabotage._ _

__My phone buzzes in my pocket. Frowning, I check the number._ _

__“What’s wrong?” Eren asks._ _

__“Unknown number,” I say. “I shouldn’t get unknown numbers on this phone. This is my personal phone, and there isn’t anybody with my number that I don’t have in my contacts.” At least up until now, apparently._ _

__I hesitate a moment, then answer. “Who is this?”_ _

__The chuckle that answers me sends a chill rolling through my body. “Levi. It’s good to hear you.”_ _

__“Erwin,” I greet him. Eren’s eyes widen. “How did you get this number?”_ _

__“I went to your service provider,” He answers._ _

__“With a warrant, I presume.”_ _

__“Of course. I can’t come pay you a visit in person, unfortunately. That would raise too much suspicion. I’d like this conversation to be discreet, if you don’t mind.”_ _

__“What do you want?” I demand. It’s one thing to know Erwin is watching me. To know that he has my personal information is much more unsettling. What else does he have access to? Is there anyone else that he’s keeping tabs on like this? If he’s watching Isabel and Farlan-_ _

__“I want to make a deal with you,” Erwin says._ _

__“Let me guess,” I say, “You want me to turn myself in, and in exchange Mikasa goes free? Or better, you want me to sell out my family in exchange for legal immunity.”_ _

__“Good guesses, but no,” Erwin says. I can hear the smile in his voice. “I would like to talk about your uncle’s illicit empire, yes, but I want to imprison as few people as possible.”_ _

__“Right,” I say. “That’s not how the legal system works in this country.”_ _

__“I’m being completely honest,” Erwin says. “I want as little bloodshed and as few criminal trials as possible. I do not want your family to implode. All I ask for is your cooperation in dismantling your more unsavory business ventures and in the legalization of your organization.”_ _

__I close my eyes. My head swims. Insane. I want to laugh. “Mr. Ackerman?” Erwin prompts._ _

__“Give me one good reason,” I say, “why I shouldn’t hang up right now.” Erwin chuckles. We both know that in saying this, I’m taking the bait. If Kenny ever learns that I’m sitting here and talking to Erwin goddamn Smith about ways to bring him down, I’m fucked._ _

__“There are a lot of innocent people who will suffer if every single one of your people gets locked up,” Erwin reasons. “a lot of you are providers.” He pauses. “For example, what happens to your sister and brother if their adoptive family gets snared in criminal investigations? I don’t doubt that the trial’s legal fees would be easy for your family to pay, but the idea that people you love could be locked away for the rest of their lives tends to be very taxing emotionally.”_ _

__I want to throw up. “Leave my siblings out of it.”_ _

__“I’d like to have a meeting with you and talk about this further,” Erwin counters._ _

__Eren hovers over me, expression tense. “There’s a house at the end of La rue Moulin, by the park,” I say. “Meet me there at ten tomorrow and come alone.” My mind races. I need to make sure Erwin can’t double cross me. Hange should be there, I think. Mike? I can probably trust Mike – well, maybe. I can’t assume these things. That’s how fuck-ups happen._ _

__“I look forward to it,” Erwin says. “Thank you, Levi. One last thing -,”_ _

__“What.”_ _

__“Say hello to Eren for me. I assume he’s still with you, correct?”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tracking the tag "fic: darksidemoon" on Tumblr, for what that's worth. Next update will be out soon. As always, please let me know if there are any translation errors, and leave me some kudos/comments.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://www.lady-bluebird-luv.tumblr.com/).


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